


A year in the life - conflict escalation

by taj_mahal



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: ...and being idiots about it, Both of them being too stubborn for their own good!, Boys In Love, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Taking a break / Breakups, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-08-17 14:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16518479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taj_mahal/pseuds/taj_mahal
Summary: +++ Roger isn't even halfway through the door to Rafa's hotel room, on which he has knocked on rather urgently just seconds ago, when the words, the decision he has come up with, is already out of his mouth – breathless and desperate.  --- "I think we should take a break. Just for a little while...” +++- A retelling of the events from Shanghai 2017 to Shanghai 2018 with a Fedal twist, as well as a couple of glimpses into important moments of the past of their relationship from 2003 to 2009 -





	1. Beginning of the end is near

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys. Here I am, back with a new story for you. This one is not as long as the last one - it's only 12 chapters - and I have to admit it's not exactly fluffy but rather heavy on the angst and hurt/comfort. I still hope you will like it.
> 
> Thanks to **Mira_Mirai** who's comment about the lack of Fedalness since last year's Laver Cup on a different story inspired me for this idea and to **roger_that** who helped me get started, making a couple of excellent suggestions for the first couple of chapters, and making it easier for me to get a feel for my characters. This story is for you guys because without you it wouldn't have been written!
> 
> I will try to update regularly and I hope you'll enjoy this little story despite the fact that's it's a tiny bit sad.  
> Given RL tennis these days, I know we can all use some fluff, but somehow whenever I come up with a new idea it's always kind of angsty... Maybe next time :P
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> <>°O°<>

*Shanghai 2017*

It's not until after their dinner with their fellow Laver Cup teammates that things actually take an unexpected and very much unwanted turn. Dinner has been a lively affair, stories of the tournament in Prague going back and forth, lots of laughs and teasing going around and the members of team Europe feeling happy and relaxed around one another. It's later. Back in the hotel lobby, when Roger overhears a piece of conversation in German between Sascha and Dominic that makes him realize that maybe, just maybe he hasn't been as sneaky and subtle as he thought he had been and that if these two kids have picked up on it... so has the rest of the world watching. They are talking about one of the afternoons when neither Roger nor Rafa were playing but were cheering on their teammates and engaged in what Roger remembers as a very lively conversation. As it turns out, Dominic has a slightly different recollection of the events and Sascha- who wasn't even sitting with them at the time - is wholeheartedly agreeing with him. 

“I was sitting right there in between them and I never felt more uncomfortable in my whole life. I mean it was nice and I enjoyed listening in and they tried to incorporate me in their conversation here and there but still... all I could think of the entire time was like... get a room already, you two...”

“I know, right! That's exactly what I was thinking!”

The two youngsters – Roger can't help to think of them as boys in that moment – giggle about the memory and are completely oblivious to both the fact that he is just a couple of paces behind them listening and how much it scares him to hear their assessment of the situation. Get a room... If only those two would know how close to the truth they actually are... The whole long weekend in Prague has been like a bubble away from reality. It was different from anything else they ever had. It wasn't like a tournament where they have to steal time in between matches and other responsibilities, sneaking around team and family to find enough time and a proper space to be together. It's not like an exhibition or on breaks from the tour either, when they try to align their schedule and find time away from practice and friends and family to find a place to meet and simply enjoy themselves for a little while. It almost always feels like stolen time... and maybe it is. 

But in Prague things were different. They aren't rivals or competitors, two different sides to the same coin, each representing their own unique style, approach and mindset to the sport. They are teammates, friends, supposed to lead and bring together the team they represent. Sitting together, having fun, spending time off court at dinners and nightcaps and sleeping on the same floor of the same hotel... It was all expected of them. And it made them just a tiny bit more careless than they usually would have been. Neither one of them has noticed, both of them perfectly happy with how easily everything falls into place. But others have noticed. And they talk. The Laver Cup bubble has suddenly burst and cold, hard reality is invading that precious weekend. It's downright scary and it warrants some kind of action – an immediate action. A drastic one... because this is a drastic problem. 

Nothing has happened – yet. And that is the imperative word. If Sascha and Domi are talking about it, Roger is sure so are other people. As long as it's just talking, that is okay. But what if there are rumors? Or – god forbid – somebody actually saw them in the corridor of their hotel after dinner, too close and too friendly, knocking on the door of the other's hotel room and disappearing inside without ever reemerging until the next morning. It would be a disaster... and it would bring with it the potential to destroy every last thing he has ever achieved. It could destroy both their careers, their legacies... and their family life. 

Maybe it's a little easier for Rafa. It's just the way his relationship presents itself to the outside world. At the best of times it's attributed to the fact that Rafa and Meri like to keep their private life to themselves. At the worst of times she looks very much like an excuse to keep any kind of rumors at bay. It's not entirely unwarranted and not just because Roger knows better. Rafa has sort of set himself up for it. He's been with the woman like close to 15 years now and there never once has been talk of marriage and children and family. It's always about privacy and about things that are meant for a later time, for after – after retirement, after the professional sport is no longer a part of Rafa's life. 

For Roger it is different. He is married, he has children. His relationship with Mirka, his family life is a little more open and publicly recognized because his family travels with him a lot of the time and because Mika is not only his wife but his manager. It makes this whole damn mess so much harder. Roger knows he can't go from being a husband and father and the greatest the sport has ever seen to the gay guy who betrayed his family. That would be what it boils down to. No longer the family man, no longer the maestro, no longer the 20 times Grand Slam champion. Just a guy who ruined it all by hiding that he is gay and in a semi exclusive relationship with his biggest rival... Everything he is, he has done, he has achieved, every last piece of his legacy would all be destroyed... And for what? For one careless weekend of too little thinking and too much fun? The press would have a field day with that... and Roger's life would inevitably be ruined. And that is not to happen. Not now, not ever. 

Later on Roger often wonders if it wouldn't have been better to just sleep on it and make a decision in the morning, instead of immediately reacting to what he has heard of a conversation clearly not meant for him. Instead of running off to talk to Rafa like a headless chicken, he could have taken his time, given it a little more thought and made a balanced decision from there on out. But he doesn't... and things inevitably play out as they are destined to. He isn't even halfway through the door to Rafa's hotel room, on which he has knocked on rather urgently just seconds ago, when the words, the decision he has come up with, is already out of his mouth – breathless and desperate. 

“I think we should take a break. Just for a little while...”

“No.”

Rafa's reaction is immediate and he doesn't even sound angry. It's more a show of confusion and apart from that he is his usual stubborn and determined self, very much unwilling to listen and to simply accept a decision made on his behalf, but without his opinion asked or his input valued. Later on Roger realizes that this was never just his decision to make. In that moment Rafa denying his solution sobers him up just a little. At least enough to have a more useful conversation and to put things a bit more into perspective. 

“I'm not saying not to see each other. Just to be a little less obvious... a little less around one another. Just for a little while, okay? Until things die down a little?”

“What things?”

“Laver Cup. Us playing together, us supporting the team, us... talking.”

“You mean you not keeping your hands off me?”

“It wasn't like that!”

Rafa is joking about the matter instead of taking things seriously and that is the very last thing Roger needs after working himself up into a frenzy over the consequences this whole thing might have. Rafa is obviously a lot less bothered and that immediately pushes Roger into a corner where he feels he has to be defensive. Maybe it's uncalled for and it's definitely not helping, but Rafa is so infuriatingly uncaring about this whole thing! The Spaniard gives him a trademark raised eyebrow to show his disagreement and disregard and Roger can't help but feel irritated and just a little angrier than he already did before. It's not like Rafa did anything to stop him. This isn't his fault exclusively even if he obviously was the one to engage in physical contact a lot of the time. 

“People are talking...”

“What people?”

“Pretty much everybody for heaven's sake. Press, fans... Sascha and Domi...”

Rafa's expression changes from amused to alarmed all of a sudden and Roger refrains from breathing a sigh of relief. It seems they are finally on the same page now, both aware that the consequences arising from people shooting their mouth of about them could be anything but pleasant. The mention of the two youngsters does indeed get Rafa's attention and he wants to know what exactly it is that these two have been saying to get a feel for how serious the problem is.

“What do they say?!

“They joked about us being so... friendly around one another. They were very much aware of it. Dominic said he felt uncomfortable being right in the middle and that he couldn't stop thinking that we two should get a room to engage in our... displays of affection in private. Which we did as you very well know.” 

Rafa has been listening closely to everything Roger has to say but his previous expression of alarm has morphed again. The fact that he doesn't even look worried doesn't sit right with Roger though. It seems more like Rafa is interested in what those two had to say, maybe even amused. Obviously he sees no threat in these two younger man gossiping about his and Roger's relationship and the way they very obviously displayed it while being together in Prague. Rafa is curious to hear more but he definitely isn't concerned. It's blatant ignorance and that only angers Roger more. 

“You think they... know?”

“I have no idea, okay! I couldn't very well go up to them and ask them. They were joking about it though... We were anything but subtle apparently. And that's... not good.”

Roger's assessment is hurtful but it isn't exactly wrong. Still Rafa can't help to feel confused. He hadn't expected Roger to show up at his room and he certainly hadn't expected him to be this worked up and frantic about a simple conversation he eavesdropped on. But they enjoyed themselves and so did the rest of the team. Nobody talks about that. They are just being talked about because the hype was all about them. They were the flagships of this whole tournament, the ones in the limelight, their doubles match the most anticipated event of the whole weekend. It's only natural that people talk – even fellow players. They are always talked about in some form or capacity. Right now it's just a little bit more.

Obviously he's the only one seeing it like this. It is why he joked about it in the first place. Saying that Roger has been unable to keep his hands of him had been meant as a joke to defuse the tension. Unfortunately all he has achieved is to make matters worse. He still has a hard time grasping what all the fuss is about. So two of their Laver Cup teammates talked about them and made a stupid joke. It's not like they were appalled or suspicious or thinking about getting the press involved to out them and their relationship in some way. Maybe they have been a little too friendly, a little to animated and a little too enthusiastic around one another but it's not like Roger tried to kiss him right out there sitting down with the rest of the team next to the court or has touched him in any inappropriate places. It was just a spur of the moment thing, driven by the mood and the excitement of the tournament happening around them. It's nothing to worry about. At least not from Rafa's point of view. 

“Nothing happened, Roger.”

“How can you say that?! They wouldn't talk about us like that if it was any other tournament.”

But is different, no? Laver Cup? It was not like a tournament. It is... special. Different. So is okay.”

“No, it's not okay... I really think we need to be more careful from now on. It's not like I don't want to see you or anything. It's just... it's better this way. I'm protecting both of us here – our families and our careers.”

Rafa stares at Roger for a long moment and the older man realizes too late that – even though he had good intentions and both their best interests at heart – he has managed to be condescending. He can't eve blame Rafa for his reaction. The Spaniard is 32 years old and Roger has just essentially told him that he needs his levelheadedness, perception and protection in order to safe him from himself. Of course it's no what Roger meant but quite obviously it is what Rafa takes away from his words. He looks disappointed and just a little bit hurt. And then there is a sudden change in his demeanor. His posture tenses, his face closes off, any trace of emotion disappears from his features and suddenly Roger is looking at the version of Rafa usually reserved and restricted for on court only... A mask of determined concentration, not letting his emotions shine through and not letting anyone in on what he is thinking. His voice is just as void of emotion and Roger feels his heart sink. Trying to get Rafa to see reason and simply understand the necessity of the decision is failing miserably. 

“You no need to protect me. I can do it myself.“

“Rafa...”

“You just tell me when is fine to talk to you again. Or you text. No need to see me this way. Just text and I know is okay to speak with you again. To be close.”

“Please don't be mad...”

Rafa shakes his head, the smallest of smiles on his lips that never reaches his eyes that are suddenly very dark and still void of any trace of emotion. It's an unconvincing gesture one that is usually reserved for uncomfortable questions in press conferences and Roger hates the display Rafa is putting on, that carefully controlled show of indifference, with every fiber of his being. He doesn't deserve this. He is trying to protect them both and instead of being understanding and grateful, Rafa is feeling patronized and he is punishing him for it. 

“I'm not mad. I give you space. You want space, no? You just said.”

“Okay... If this is how you want to be about this, fine! Yes. I want space!”

Roger can't help his own emotional reaction – he snaps. Roger makes a dramatic exit after that, all righteous anger and purposeful movements. He leaves Rafa's hotel room and doesn't refrain from making a bit of a scene by throwing the door closed. They don't talk after that. They don't text. They avoid being in any confined space together if they can. Even a hotel lobby or a locker room is too much of close proximity after their argument. It is supposed to be a break but actually it feels a lot more like a break up. It's a loaded, awful, hard to bear silence between them and of course the can't avoid each other forever. 

When they meet in the final Rafa apparently has some sort of injury. But apart from the taping to the knee Roger doesn't know anything about it, because that's how it's going to be between them from now on until one of them manages to get over themselves and seek the other one out for a proper, grown up conversation. For now neither one of the can get past their wounded pride. Rafa doesn't talk to him anymore, doesn't text, doesn't come to see him, doesn't so much as look at him. When it's all done and Roger has won the title, their interaction is subdued and short and very much professional when they meet at the net. Rafa could be anybody else judging from the way they interact – quickly and matter-of-factly and without any lingering or affection to it... It makes the win somehow hollow.

There's a moment during the trophy ceremony – when the tournament organizers ask them to butcher a couple of words of Chinese – when everything is blissfully back to normal again and they look at one another and grin and laugh and feel mutually embarrassed at the stupidity of it all. There even is a brief moment of skin on skin – a simple, innocent moment of hand on shoulder but even that is simply too much at the moment. They realize it at the same moment, the fact that they are overstepping the new boundaries they have set for one another out of habit, out of muscle memory and it takes a conscious effort to retreat. The moment is gone like it never existed – a dream and a memory all in one fading away. The smile fades from Rafa's face as they align to have their picture taken and there is no physical contact between them. Rafa gives him a quick pad on the back, barely even looking at him as he does and then he is gone and Roger is left to celebrate his newest win and trophy – alone. He hasn't felt as miserable as he does in that moment, basking in the flurry of camera flashes, supposedly celebrating his 4th win over Rafa in that year... 

Rafa goes to Barcelona for further testing and a doctor's visit to check out the injury and then retires from the tournament in Basel. Roger has no clue what is going on with the Spaniard other than what little he learns from the official press releases. They haven't talked before Rafa left for Spain and they don't talk or text while the younger man is recuperating. They have gone radio silent. They have the distance, the break Roger suggested... It's all as he wants it and it sucks – big time.


	2. The little mermaid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've taken my time with the update but I have been hitting a massive wall of writer's block and am not really motivated to do much of anything when it comes to writing or posting at the moment. RL tennis isn't exactly an inspiration at the moment either. Hopefully things will look up again in a little while... Here's to a better 2019 (already).
> 
> Thanks to **Dreamcatcher** for the review (I'll answer to it later, hope you don't mind). I hope the turnout will be better once more of this story is underway. It would really help and be grately appreciated!
> 
> Just a quick explanation about the chapter titles from here on out - every chapter has a quote from a Disney song, the chapters are named after the movies the songs belong to. Just so there's no confusion about it :)
> 
> <>°O°<>

_I don't know when, I don't know how, but I know something's starting right now.  
Watch and you'll see, one day I'll be part of your world._

*Wimbeldon 2003*

It's his very first Grand Slam tournament and Rafa is nervous and more excited than is probably good for him. His uncle has told him as much, has scolded him for the way he acts like he has never seen a grass court before but it's not that far off from the truth. Of course he has been on grass courts before but the scale and sheer enormity of all the tradition and legacy at Wimbledon is something else. It is something to be excited and nervous about, no matter how much his uncle dislikes it. 

It's all new to Rafa – at least with this scale and importance- and it's even bigger and better and more amazing than he ever could have imagined it. The tournament site of Wimbledon is huge and being here for the first time it's easy to feel a little lost with all the courts and the amount of people around. 

It's the people more than the event and the place that make Rafa nervous. He knows his way around a tennis center, he knows the sport, he knows how to play and do his best in competitive circumstances. But acting normal and relaxed around so many big names, that is difficult. His uncle has been matter-of-factly and a little blunt about it, telling him that all the other players – even the ones high in the rankings, with a multitude of achievements and the big names – are just like him. They eat and sleep and take care of their daily needs just like all the other people in the world. Somehow it hasn't been helping Rafa at all to feel less awestruck.

Everybody has been exceptionally nice to him. Some people more so than others of course, but Rafa doesn't mind. After all he's young, vastly unknown to the majority of the other players and his vocabulary of the English language consists pretty much of 'yes' and 'no' and 'thank you'. It's not exactly enough for a meaningful conversation... But he has been greeted and acknowledged and smiled at and it's nice.

There is exactly one person's reaction Rafa isn't happy with though. It's not that there has been any animosity. It has been the same routine of a smile and a nod while being passed by as with a lot of the other players he meets while moving along the tournament grounds. But when Roger Federer smiles in passing at him, Rafa is disappointed. The Swiss is perfectly friendly but he doesn't look twice at him and that keeps on bothering Rafa even days after they have first met. 

He has no idea why though and somehow he doesn't dare to talk to his uncle about it. It seems... not something to involve family in. His uncle will probably tell him he is being silly and has just a bit of hero worship for the older man. It wouldn't be wrong but it's no the entire truth either. What Rafa feels towards Roger is a lot more than that. There's something that runs deeper than the desire to be able to talk to Roger or to get a chance to compete against the Swiss sometime. 

He wants Roger to look at him properly, to not just dismiss him with a side glance and a curt nod like he doesn't matter. He wants the older man to know his name, wants him to turn and look after him whenever Rafa walks past him in the future. He wants a place in Rogers life... not just on the court but off it too. The desire is almost painful and Rafa is sure about one thing above all else – he has to act on it. 

The decision is made easily enough. Rafa knows how to be determined. And he will achieve his goals because he knows ho to do that as well. Pursue, fight and not give up. It is exactly what he is going to do and he will not relent until that elusive moment comes when Roger will stop and smile and talk to him, happy to see him, happy to speak with him and knowing his name. That's what Rafa plans, that's what he works on now and he's sure he will succeed. Because he knows how to do that too – be successful. 

*#*

*October/November 2017*

Rafa goes to Paris and Roger isn't there. As it turns out, the Swiss has withdrawn from the tournament to better prepare for the World Tour Finals in London... That is his official statement to press and fans. Rafa is very sure he knows better than that. It is all too obvious that Roger is avoiding him after the argument they had in Shanghai. And all because Sascha and Domi couldn't keep their gossiping mouths shut. It's not that he is angry at the two youngsters. They can talk about whatever they want. He isn't exactly angry at Roger either. More like disappointed and still very much confused at the reaction Rafa feels was completely blown out of proportion. 

He still doesn't get it and that is the worst part of it all. In order to understand what Roger is so worried about, they should have talked about it in more detail. But they have fought instead, Rafa not taking Roger's anguish serious and the older man being condescending towards him. Somehow the situation has gotten away from them in Shanghai and instead of talking things through and acting like adults, they have simply opted out of being reasonable and have decided to ignore each other instead. It hurts and Rafa is sure Roger is hurting as well. But he refuses to be the one to take the first step here. He still very much believes he hasn't done anything wrong. Roger is the one who initiated all this, he should be the one to end it as well. 

But he doesn't. Instead Rafa reads a statement of Roger saying he doesn't want to chase the number one, that it's the worst thing he could do. Of course the comment refers to the ranking but to Rafa there's a subtle tone and subtext to the statement. Something only he and Roger know about, a dig only meant for him to understand. Roger doesn't want to pursue the World Number One in tennis, which is him... It's a clear testament to their current situation and to Rafa it means that he's supposed to back off and leave matters well enough alone. Not that it isn't what he has done. But obviously Roger feels the need to remind him... or maybe he is over analyzing things and Roger's statement has nothing to do with him whatsoever. He simply doesn't know. He can't ask Roger for clarification because these day they don't talk any more... 

He stays with his team and with his fellow Spanish players in preparation for the tournament for the major part but the day before his first match he has a practice session scheduled with Sascha and the kid is all excitement and smiles and can't seem to stop talking about Laver Cup and how much fun he had and how great an experience it has been for him. Rafa plasters a smile on his face, nods and agrees. A great experience... at least for Sascha. 

To Rafa the weekend in Prague will forever be linked with feelings of abandonment and sorrow. But he can't very well blame the kid for it. All Sascha did was comment on something that to him was more of a tease and a joke than anything else. He had most definitely never thought anything of it – at least nothing that would have endangered either Rafa or Roger. To the younger man it was harmless... To Rafa it had been a surprise. To Roger it had been a disaster... 

Sascha loses the very first match he plays here in Paris and maybe that is a good thing. At least it means Rafa doesn't have to play a competitive match against the youngster. He isn't sure it would have ended well. As much and as often as eh tells himself not to blame the other man or be angry at him because he ultimately was one of the major reasons that Roger wanted a break in his and Rafa's relationship, he simply can't stop himself. At least this way, the negative feelings stay off the court.

Rafa's own first match in Paris is a victory. But it comes at a price. He has known all along that he is not at 100 percent physically, that the knee is still bothering him and that putting any more strain on the already inflamed tendons is not the best of ideas. He wants to try anyway and of course it turns out to be the wrong decision. It seems it's sort of a theme with him these days. He makes a decision and it turns out not only to be wrong but to be hurtful for him. The discomfort he has felt morphs into pain after the match and as much as Rafa wants it, he knows he can't go on like this. Something has to give. 

He talks with his team, tells them about the knee and the way the sensation has worsened before he has a more than uncomfortable post match session with his physio. He goes to dinner with them and for a little while everything is alright again. They sit and eat and chat and joke and for the moment the knee is simply throbbing instead of hurting him. It only stay okay until he is alone in his hotel room. That is when the gloom descends on him... because Roger isn't there. 

Roger would never tell him what to do. He wouldn't give him advice on how to proceed in the tournament and on whether to play the next match despite the injury or not. They have agreed very early on that their professional life and their private relationship have to stay separate in order for things to work. So when they are together – when they were together, Rafa silently corrects himself – it was never about tennis. It's not what he wants anyway. Roger's advice cannot help him in this situation, even if they would have ever agreed that it was okay to give and hear it. But the other man's presence, that would be helpful.

If Laver Cup and Roger's subsequent overreaction in Shanghai hadn't happened and everything would still be as it was – a blissfully beautiful version of normal – the older man would be here now. They wouldn't talk about the match or the injury or how Rafa feels about it. They would simply be together. There would be closeness and silence and they would go to bed together, cuddling and spooning, the warmth of the other man's body better and more soothing than any blanket could be. They would be in their on little world, their perfect little bubble and even though his knee is hurting and he knows he shouldn't play with it like that, Rafa would be happy and content. But Roger isn't there and he is left to face his problems and anxieties alone. 

His third round match is a test in endurance and fighting spirit. He wins it – somehow – against pain and limitation in his movements and a general feeling of utter crappiness due to the fact that his own body has decided to betray him yet again. But it's a hollow victory. He goes to see the tournament doctor that same evening after the match and as much as the man tries to come up with a solution, it's just play pretend. Nothing he can do or prescribe will magically make the inflammation and the pain go away, certainly not in time for tomorrow afternoon. It's a losing battle and just another fact of life for him to accept.

The evening is a gloomy affair as he sits with his team at a dinner where most of them shove their food around on their plates without actually eating any of it. There's no need to talk about any of today's events or the decision yet to be made about the rest of the tournament week. They all know he's going home tomorrow at the latest. There is no way he plays another – possibly three set – match in competitive circumstances with the damn knee feeling the way it does, let alone three of them. The tournament is over for him, all that is left to do is to admit to it. 

That night is even worse than the last. The absence of Roger, of the soothing warmth and comfort he provides, is almost physically painful even more so than the damn knee stinging and throbbing and making it nearly impossible to fall asleep. It would all be better if Roger was here. Rafa would feel better, more relaxed, more happy. But he isn't. And that is just another fact of life for Rafa to accept. He falls asleep somewhere around 3 or 4 in the morning with his knee still throbbing painfully and tears of frustration leaking from his eyes unwanted as he buries his head into his pillows and tries his hardest not to cry out and scream in frustration. 

The next morning doesn't bring much of any progress. It has been a short night with little sleep and lots of frustration. Rafa tries, he really does but warming up for his quarter final match the next day Rafa knows it's not going to work. He's pretty much limping around the practice court and the inflamed tendons in his knee leave him not only limited but pretty much useless. He can't compete like that and no amount of therapeutic effort or taping or even medication can do anything about that. Not until this afternoon.

What he needs is rest. It's infuriating, it's disappointing and it is yet another low blow he is forced to deal with on top of everything else but that's what life is throwing at him that day. So he talks to the press, announces his withdrawal, tries to accept and goes back home. There's nothing else he can do. All the while – after the wins, in the late evenings before he goes to bed, after withdrawing from the tournament with injury, after arriving back home and stepping off the plane – Rafa keeps an eye on his phone. Roger doesn't text him once. 

*#*

There is lots and lots of discussion prior to Rafa's arrival in London and even though all of the members on his team as well as his family tell him that ultimately it is his decision to make, they all urge him to stay home and simply call quits on the season of 2017. It's a reasonable piece of advice and he thinks about it long and hard. Maybe it's better this way, in fact he knows it's better this way. But quitting without a fight isn't really his thing. If that was the case he probably wouldn't have fought with Roger back in Shanghai and would have simply accepted the older man's decision. But he was stubborn then and he is stubborn now and thus shows up in London for the World Tour Finals to give it all he has... which admittedly is not a lot at the moment.

Roger practices at Queens Club instead of at the O2 arena, avoiding contact at any chance possible or at least that is what it looks like to Rafa and that stings – a lot. But it doesn't hurt any more. Shanghai is only a couple of weeks in the past but the sensation of sadness and betrayal and of hurt is already dulling. It shouldn't be this easy, it shouldn't all be fading away this quickly but still it is what happens. Years and years of stealing time away from tournaments, obligations, teams and family and now it all seems to dull and vanish like it never actually happened. It's scary how quickly and easily this new reality seems to have settled.

Which is why all the press attention prior to the first matches played is painful. They ask about Roger a lot or maybe that is just Rafa's imagination. Either way, he doesn't like it, doesn't like that he has to lie, that he has to put a smile on his face, say nice things, be polite and act like everything is fine. It is not and somewhere within the depths of his soul every last fiber of his being is screaming at him to simply let go of it all and tell the truth – scream it out loud at the top of his lungs. Tell the world that he is hurting, that he feels betrayed and that he simply wishes to go back to the way things were before Shanghai, before Laver Cup. But he can't... and of course he doesn't.

He practices with Sascha again and this time the younger man seems to have gotten over his excitement and elation about Laver Cup. He is fully focused on this last tournament of the year and on what he can achieve here and it seems that is all he wants to talk about this time. To Rafa it's a relief really. The less anybody talks about the damn event in Prague, the better. If he never has to hear about it ever again, that would be perfect. At least this way there is no reminder of what he has lost.

He receives his year end World Number One trophy after Roger plays his first match at the tournament and even though he is happy for the achievement, the feeling doesn't transport well. Of course it's good to end the year like this but he would give the trophy away in a heartbeat if he could have other things instead. Like a knee that isn't hurting him... or Roger still in his life and not avoiding and ignoring him at any cost... But for now all he can have is the trophy. 

He plays his first match against Goffin and he loses. It's to be expected. He's still hurting – physically more so than mentally and at a year end tournament with the best of the best, 60 percent capacity – and that is an overestimate in Rafa's book – simply isn't enough. There is another long discussion with the members of his team and their assessment of the situation is unanimous. They want him to call it quits, go home, rest, recuperate and come back stronger in 2018. 

Rafa doesn't like it, not one bit if he is honest with himself. But as with Roger and his decision to simply call a break and not accepting no for an answer, there are some things in life Rafa can't change anything about. With tennis he is used to it. With Roger... not so much. The decision to go home hurts, but it's the right one to make. He's still bitter and unsympathetic about the other thing though. 

It causes him to also be dismissive and maybe just a tiny bit pissed off when he points out to the press – who have a field day with his withdrawal and blame it on his age and his scheduling first and foremost - that said scheduling is his affair and that he is happy with it. When they compare his scheduling with Roger's, he feels something snap deep in the confines of his heart and soul that still haven't been able to make sense of Roger's decision to simply abandon him out of fear over something that hasn't actually happened. He has been abandoned for the vague possibility of a scandal... and it hurts. 

So his tone is clipped and maybe a little more unfriendly than necessary when he reminds the press that he is five years younger than Roger and that his career is his and his alone and that Roger can do with his own career as he pleases. They are two different people, two different entities. Now more so than ever. It's not like he says any of it to hurt Roger. After all it is the press asking about Roger and right now the Swiss is the last person Rafa wants to talk about or even be reminded of. 

He goes home and yet again Roger doesn't call or text him once, asking how he is doing, if he is well and not in any pain and how the injury is progressing. In turn Rafa does the same. When Roger loses his semifinal against Goffin – the only player Rafa himself faced in the tournament – he doesn't send a message to the Swiss. They keep on ignoring each other, keep on not talking, keep on letting their pride win the better of them. And that is how the year ends.


	3. Robin Hood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say about this update.  
> Took me a while as RL tennis is no inspiration whatsoever these days  
> and there are so many other things craving attention at the moment.
> 
> I'll try to update more often but I still hope you will be patient with me.
> 
> Thanky you to **Dreamchatcher** and **OneLastThought** for the reviews!
> 
> Hope you like this new chapter
> 
> <>°O°<>

*Miami 2004*

_It seems like only yesterday you were just a child at play  
Now you're all grown up, oh how fast those moments flee_

The first time they do more than acknowledge each other at a tournament but actually get to compete against one another happens about ten months after those first glances exchanged at Wimbledon. Roger has only a vague memory of Rafa Nadal. He remembers the scrawny kid looking younger than he actually was, shying away from conversation, smiling nervously instead of saying anything and with his tennis clothes looking way too big on him and only adding to the fact that he looks more like a kid than a teenager. 

Now – when they meet for their match-up - it's like he is looking at a completely different person. The Spaniard has obviously been working hard at his physique, looking a lot more muscular. Or maybe it's due to the change in attire, away from the over sized shirts to the sleeveless deep red shirt he's wearing and the white bandana taming a mop of unruly hair that has grown out since last year... Or maybe it's simply due to the fact that the boy from last year has turned into a teenager closer to being a man than a boy anymore. 

Whatever it is, the change definitely works for Nadal. Quite frankly the teenage boy is nice to look at. More than nice actually... It's a thought Roger consciously pushes away, reminding himself that a boy is exactly what Nadal is. He's still the same age as when Roger has seen the Spaniard back at Wimbledon, still 17, still a child and even the thought of enjoying the sight should be enough for Roger to feel appalled with himself. 

It's wrong in all kinds of ways and not just because there would be a bunch of legal problems arising from following through on his filthy thoughts. He's in a committed relationship and as far as he knows, so is the Spaniard. He isn't exactly sure though. Somebody might have said something about a girlfriend in the mix... Or maybe it was one of the other Spaniard's playing on the tour. Roger can't very well remember. Being true to himself there is little to nothing he actually knows about Nadal.

What he does know is that the teenager is very much determined to win. It's evident from the kid's very first service game on. He has to fight for it, his own service game not exactly his strong suit but it seems very much like Nadal strives on it. The competition, the measuring with another player that is evidently better than him in experience and in ranking, it seems to give something to the kid that Roger can't quite place. And it makes him good – really very good.

There are oddities to Nadal's game as well, things that throw Roger off his rhythm. Watching the kid run around his own backhand, carelessly opening up the entire court with the action to go for the forehand winner, it seems like a stupid thing to do. The kid can't know he'll strike a winner, he can't know he'll be successful and when Roger – or any of Nadal's other opponents for that matter – gets to the ball, the kid is exposed. Or that is what the theory says. In reality Nadal is too damn quick on his feet to actually be bothered by the fact that he has to run along the length of the baseline to get to the next ball. Because he can. He's simply that fast... like lighting. 

He's relentless and it's infuriating. The game plan is simple enough. Play to the backhand, wait for the mistake, only play to the forehand when you're sure you can hit a winner. It's a pattern that should be easy enough to break – at least in theory. Reality looks a bit more difficult though. The damn kid is unwilling to relinquish control over the match, the set, even a single point. He runs them all down like his life depended on it and he never once gives up. Roger simply can't make Nadal play to the forehand side. He tries of course but the kid is stubbornly clinging to the game plan the entirety of his team must have drilled into him. Long line, cross court, whatever action works best to get the ball to Roger's backhand again and again and again until he either loses concentration for just a second... or his temper at the damn repetition. 

It's over within a little over an hour and the change in demeanor when the last point is played and the match is over is so damn drastic that it once again feels like looking at a completely different person. It's like the grim determination simply bleeds out of the Spaniard and the second a smile lights up his face at the realization of the victory – his eyes searching the familiar faces of his team in their box – he looks more like the 17 year old teen again that he is. Still the boy looks positively radiant and very much adorable in his open and honest display of joy.

The thought returns unwanted and Roger pushes it down with more force this time, shaking his head. When he reaches the net where Nadal is still waiting for him, racket and bandana in hand and that happy smile still on his face. Roger keeps the exchange short, not trusting himself with his own emotions and actually pushes the kid just a little for a chance to reach the end of the net and the umpire's chair just a little quicker. He's glad when he can let go of Rafa and can turn away. Being this close, feeling the sweatiness to the kid's skin and the heat radiating off of him, it's almost impossible to keep his swirling thoughts at bay. But he has to. It's just passion, just a bit of stupidity and it will pass... with time. 

*#*

*Australia 2018*

Melbourne is the first time of this still very young new year that Rafa and Roger are actually in the same place at the same time. They aren't at the same hotel though and it seems Rafa has made a conscious effort to choose a different hotel. They don't usually do that but nothing is at it was before anymore. Usually they would have texted prior to their arrival in Melbourne, made sure they stayed in the same place so it was easier to have contact without too many people noticing. But this time they haven't done it – not even one text, not even good wishes for New Year... Nothing.

It's been three months now since Roger asked Rafa for a break in their relationship and it's more than two months since they have last seen each other or have had any other kind of contact. It's too damn long and it's hard to keep up any resolve like this. He misses Rafa, it's as simple as that. It's not just the physical side of things, not just touch and intimacy and sex. He misses the chance to be with one another, to simply enjoy each others presence, to talk and joke and laugh about stupid things... Right now Roger neither gets the one nor the other and even though he is the one to have started it all, he still hates the way things are going between them. 

Roger has had a lot of time to think about Laver Cup and Shanghai and his decision to take some time apart from Rafa. He still very much believes that it was the right thing to do. He has watched footage of Laver Cup in the aftermath of his decision and he can't deny that both the Austrian and the German were right in their playful assessment. Him and Rafa have been too damn obvious... But he also gets why Rafa has been far less concerned about the whole matter. People have posted videos of them, people have talked but the general consensus is that they act happy around each other, elated and fueled by the intensity of the event. People think they are adorable together... But so far Roger has yet to see one comment that suggest there is more going on than friendship and a bit of over enthusiasm. 

That is why he made a New Year resolution – find a way to talk to Rafa, be around one another again and at least try to be friends. For the rest of it, Roger simply wants to take things one step at a time and see where it goes. He doesn't want to force anything – neither intimacy nor closeness. But to actually get that done, it needs the both of them. And Rafa is simply too damn stubborn for his own good. Expecting him to make the first step here, when he is clearly still angry or at least holding some sort of grudge and feels like he is in the right on top of that, is wishful thinking at it's best. It won't happen – that much is for sure. 

Rafa isn't exactly a bitter or vindictive person. Far from it actually. But he is a strong believer in both respect and independence. He listens to other people's opinions but ultimately makes his own decisions. In Shanghai, Roger has taken that away from him. He hasn't given Rafa a say in the decision. And even if it was simply fueled by good intentions and the desire to protect the Spaniard from harm, it has been the wrong way to go regardless.. As the younger man had told him very clearly that day – Roger protecting him is neither necessary nor appreciated. 

Roger knows that words alone won't do the trick. He doesn't want to send a text because that feels to impersonal and not doing justice to the situation. Talking to Rafa is the better option but that needs the two of them to be on the same page. So far Rafa is clearly avoiding him. Actions would be the way to go. But Roger isn't exactly sure what would be best. Simply showing up at Rafa's hotel room seems to be the wrong way to go. After all he is the one who insisted they keep their distance. Breaking that will probably only make the Spaniard more angry with him instead of more lenient. Maybe a sneakier approach is the best. So Roger decides to simply run into Rafa at the tournament grounds on one of the next days prior to the tournament. It's innocent and coincidental and hopefully they will somehow manage to act like two grown-ups around one another and get matters resolved. 

When it happens it's a week prior to the beginning of the tournament. And Rafa ist at Rod Laver Arena. He practices with Stan and the problem with that is that his fellow Swiss player involves Roger in a conversation when he detects him. Which of course gives Rafa a chance to slip away from him yet again. It's almost like Rafa is afraid of the confrontation, though confronting him or fighting with him is the last thing Roger wants. Rafa's obvious display of disinterest on that day however, is enough to make Roger retreat instead of trying again at another practice session and looking for a chance to talk to Rafa. Obviously the Spaniard has a far easier time moving on...

To add insult to injury, some of Rafa's other practice partners include Sascha and Dominic... Roger has no idea what has gotten into the younger man to even seek contact with those two. After all they are the ones who started it all. All the misery, the radio silence, the time apart – none of it would have happened if those two simply had been able to keep their mouths shut... Yet again it's unfair to blame it all on the two youngsters. After all the two men only picked up and joked about things that were already there... Still it's easier to pass the blame than to take it.

They are paired for a little award ceremony on the Saturday just before the tournament starts and Roger has truly hoped they would have a chance to talk there. But the little ceremony is done in between their pre tournament press conferences and there is no chance for privacy. Standing shoulder to shoulder to have their picture taken is the closest they get to one another. There are no smiles, no putting their heads together to share a small private moment or a joke. It's all very stiff, very professional and over within a couple of minutes. 

Roger feels very much ignored . Maybe Rafa is doing it to abide by their newly established rules of keeping distance from one another. To Roger it feels very much like punishment. He debates waiting for Rafa to finish his own presser but decides against it. There will be press and officials and other players around when the conference is done and Roger has no desire to stay here and give Rafa a chance to ignore him some more. So Roger decides to leave and he can't stop himself from the little dig, telling Rafa to 'enjoy the press'.

The first week of the tournament leaves little time for much of any more contemplation on his and Rafa's relationship or to come up with a game plan on how to make things better. Between matches, practice, press and other responsibilities, Roger is very much engrossed with his own responsibilities. He assumes it's the same for Rafa. Either way, neither of them tries for any contact and when they see each other by chance on practice courts or at the player's lounge, the utmost they do is acknowledge the others presence. Things very much proceed just in the same way as they did when the last year ended. Roger doesn't like it, doesn't like the lack of intimacy, of friendliness... the general lack of Rafa in his life. But he doesn't do anything about it and neither does the Spaniard. 

The second week of the tournament begins and it's quarterfinals already. Roger hasn't watched any of Rafa's matches so far and he isn't starting tonight. The TV is on in the main room of his suite anyway and when his wife calls to him to come take a look, he knows that something unexpected has happened. It could be any kind of news really, but given the hour and the fact that Rafa is playing right at this moment, Roger assumes it has to do with the Spaniard. 

He turns out to be right. After four sets and 2:0 in the fifth, Rafa is forced to retire from his quarterfinal match due to injury. Rafa has rarely ever looked as gutted as he does in the moment he has to call quits on the match even though he clearly doesn't want to. Rafa certainly isn't prone to outbursts of anger and blatant displays of frustration on the court but the way he throws both his racket and headband on the bench as if the two items are somehow at fault for the physical problem, this is as close as it gets... and it's unsettling to watch to say the least. 

Replays of the match highlights show the medical time out with Rafa all too clearly in pain and the last two service games of the fifth set, where all Rafa is still able to do, is limp around the court and try his hardest to play through the pain in his leg that keeps him from doing what he wants out there on court. Given how Rafa's 2017 season ended early due to yet another knee injury, this turn of events hardly seems fair. 

And it's even more unsettling due to the fact that it seems to be something new the Spaniard is dealing with here. This isn't a problem to the knees or the wrists as he has dealt with before. This is something different, something quite obviously painful and something he yet has to learn the full extent of. Roger debates calling Rafa for the quickest of seconds, but decides against it. Rafa is probably somewhere between a shower, his post match presser and a doctors visit... It's not the right time for a call... especially not since they are no longer that close... Quite possibly the younger man won't pick up anyway. Instead Roger sends a quick text. 

'How are you? How is the injury? Are you okay?'

It takes more than two hours for Rafa to reply but that doesn't come unexpected to Roger. As he has already expected, Rafa has other things to attend to first. When the answer comes, it consists of exactly one word but that one word means so much more to Roger than the two letters it contains of could ever show. Rafa tells him no and it's not just a no to not feeling well, to not being okay. It's a denial. Roger is denied any information about the extent and severity of the injury, he is denied any access into the way Rafa feels and he is denied any chance to express his worry and support for the younger man. He is – very simply – denied any place in Rafa's life... 

'No.'

It's the last contact they have before Rafa returns home to Mallorca a day and a half later. For Roger the tournament goes on all the way to the final and coincidentally it's Rafa's quarter final opponent Cilic, that he plays against in that final. It's sort of an anticlimax or at least it feels that way. It's a Grand Slam final and it takes all of five sets and a little over three hours to be done and when it is, Roger is the proud owner of 20 Grand Slam titles. He's happy of course, up to the point of tearing up when he accepts his trophy and still throughout the whole thing the damn thought of that last text a couple of days ago simply won't leave him... 

It's there in the back of his mind and it's probably why in his victory speech Roger congratulates Marin Cilic on defeating Rafa. He can't explain why he does it... It's not like its necessary or nice even. After all Cilic isn't the one who defeated Rafa, the Spaniards own body has done that for him. Roger doesn't mean to be resentful, he doesn't mean to belittle Rafa's efforts in the tournament and he certainly doesn't mean to kick an opponent who is already down... What the mention gives him – in this particular moment in time – is a chance to reconnect, a chance to have the other man in his life, even if it's just a simple mention and a one sided affair. This is something Roger can do that Rafa can't avoid or run from or take away from him. 

Because that's all the Spaniard seems to be doing when it comes to the two of them. Roger has tried to be nice, has tried for a conversation and a proper meeting. He incorporated Rafa into a couple of interviews and the speech, he tried to text him, tried to make sure he was doing okay. But it's all his doing. And Rafa can't even be bothered to answer a simple question pertaining his health. Because Rafa doesn't care that Roger worries about him. Because Rafa has excluded Roger from his life without a second thought and seemingly without being affected by it. He plays his tennis, spends time with his team and family, practices with fellow players, he's pleasant and friendly, happy and smiley and it seems he doesn't have a care in the world. He does it because Rafa doesn't even seem to miss him. And that hurts.


	4. The hunchback of Notre Dame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I didn't manage more than a weekly update, I hope you guys don't mind.  
> There's simply too much other stuff to do in RL this close to the end of the year *sigh*
> 
> Thanks again to **Dreamchatcher** and **OneLastThought** for their lovely reviews.  
> You keep me motivated to go on posting.
> 
> Update rate will not pick up unfortunately, as I have started writing a MASSIVE AU Story and I want to concentrate on that.  
> Hope you like it anyway :)
> 
> <>°O°<>

*Paris 2005*

_Like fire, hellfire, this fire in my skin  
This burning desire is turning me to sin_

This is the one, the one for the history books. It's Rogers chance for a career Grand Slam and he is willing and able and determined to get it done. But it's the French Open and that in itself presents sort of a unique challenge. The clay courts are definitely not Roger's favorite. Actually it's his least favorite surface. But he has been doing very well so far and he has a good feeling about his chances this year. 

He has reached the semifinals here, which is his best result yet. His next opponent is Rafa Nadal which will be the second time this year that they are playing against one another. Roger has won their first encounter this year – in Miami, making up for last year's rather embarrassing loss in a little over an hour. But this time around Roger has not allowed the younger man to take him by surprise like a year ago.

Statistically speaking, Roger should have the better chances for the semifinal. Unlike Nadal, he hasn't dropped a single set during the tournament this far. For the Spaniard it's his very first time at the French Open, which Roger feels gives him an added bonus. After all he is more experienced. And he is the one coming out victorious from their latest encounter on a tennis court, albeit on a different surface. All in all he's definitely the more favorable player to come out of this match-up as the winner.

Reality has different plans for Roger though and not in a good way. He wins exactly one of the four sets they play and that is it. The victory belongs to the Spanish teenager and nothing Roger tries on court can change that. He's frustrated, especially towards the end, starting discussions with the umpire, yelling and mumbling to himself and shaking his head at the general disbelief he feels towards the situation. It's all over in a little over three hours and once again the kid is the one happily grinning when they meet at the net and it's up to Roger to be gracious in defeat. It's not exactly easy... but he manages of course. 

Keeping his emotions under wraps works until the moment he reaches the safety of the locker room where he is alone. He isn't even sad. He is mostly irritated. This had not been the plan, it is not how things were supposed to turn out. But they did anyway and it's just not fair. This was his moment to shine and the Spaniard has taken that away from him... Unfortunately he doesn't only steal Roger's thunder but enters the locker room – still happily beaming from his victory – when Roger is having a very vulnerable moment. Mercifully the teenager is alone and he stops dead in his tracks when he detects Roger, who acknowledges his presence with a nod.

“Rafa...”

“Si?”

It's probably the first time Roger calls him by his nickname or at least it's the first time he can consciously remember doing it. It's not like they have talked much with one another. The kid's English isn't exactly what Roger would call up to par. Roger isn't sure if it's the use of the name or the fact that Rafa hasn't expected him to be here, but his reaction is anything but eloquent. Roger has a hard time not to snicker. Glee certainly isn't an emotion suitable for the situation. The kid catches himself rather quickly and a shy smile appears on his face. 

“Roger... hola. Sorry...”

He is so different from the rather unreadable on court persona, that Roger has a hard time believing it every time he sees it. This version of Rafa - smile lighting up his face, heart on his sleeve, emotions on display in his expressive face – is so much more easily likable. He can't be angry with the kid, even if his life depended on it. Or maybe he actually can – not at the boyish face with the genuine smile on it, but at the words. It doesn't sound it, but Rafa's apology has quite an arrogant streak to it and Roger can't help but retaliate. He only just lost – there's no need to rub his nose in it. 

“What are you sorry for? Winning?”

“No. Yes... Sorry you lose.”

“It's not exactly your fault, is it? I mean it's my loss. No need to be condescending.”

“Con...”

He can practically watch the Spaniard stumble over the word, eyebrows rising and his face creasing into a frown. Obviously the English expression is not part of the kid's vocabulary, which very much means he can't make sense of what Roger is trying to tell him... And for some reason it's the final straw for his temper to win the better of him and his emotions to break free from behind the levee he has tried to hide them behind. But he doesn't lash out. 

Instead his reaction is an entirely different and not even a verbal one. It's a mixture of deep rooted fury and disappointment – fury at the kid for winning the better of him, for disarming him like this with his charm and genuine display of humility and happiness and disappointment at himself for having given the chance at the final away. There is also a hint of admiration - at the graciousness and wisdom with which the Spaniard holds himself. There is a maturity to the way he acts that is definitely beyond his actual age. All of that combined makes Roger act on an incentive he hasn't even been aware has been there up until now. 

The kid irritates him, bothers him and he has a control over the way Roger feels that is downright scary... And then there is the other – deeper and darker – part of him, that still feels Rafa is nice to look at and that causes a burning desire in the pit of his stomach that he simply can't deny himself any longer. He bridges the gap between them and without ever actually putting the idea into a conscious thought, he reaches out a hand, grabs for Rafa's still slightly sweaty upper left arm and pulls the kid into a kiss. 

It's a strange experience. It's the first time he actually kisses another man and something about it instantly feels... right. Different to previous experiences but simply like this is the way it always should have been. The kiss is passionate and of course Roger takes the younger man by surprise. Rafa tastes of salty sweat and of a mixture of the fruity drink and the bananas he's been having on changeovers. There is a very fleeting moment of resistance from the younger man, but it lasts less than a second. Rafa relaxes into the kiss, lips slightly parted and Roger can feel his warm breath on his cheek. As soon as the urge has come over him though, it disappears again and Roger disengages, making a conscious effort to take a step back. He's too embarrassed to even look at the teenage boy he just forced into this kind of physical contact. Rafa however has overcome his initial reluctance and shyness rather quickly and would Roger be looking up he could see the kid smiling at him... 

“I... I'm sorry...”

“Is okay...”

“No... No! I shouldn't have done that. I have a girlfriend... and so do you.”

It's a lame excuse, especially as Roger is the one who has started this whole thing. He really can't explain what has gotten over him... He takes another step back before he finally allows himself to look at Rafa again. The younger man looks confused and just a tiny bit disappointed. Obviously he has as much of a hard time to make sense of what has just happened between them... but for entirely different reasons. 

“You don't like?”

“That's not the point!”

Unfortunately Roger is unable to continue because he really has no damn idea what exactly the point is... Maybe something along the lines of them not being able to do this because they are in relationships and because they are elite athletes. Certain things are expected of them, certain rules they are supposed to abide by... Rafa however very much looks like he couldn't care less. He shrugs softly and the smile on his face melts into something that is flirtatious and almost inviting, maybe even a tiny bit predatory. His question is genuine and so damn open hearted, it takes Roger by surprise and forces him to be honest. 

“You want again?”

“No! Yes... I don't know...”

“Is my birthday today...”

The statement takes Roger completely by surprise and he stares at the Spaniard in response. He hadn't known about that up until now. It seems Rafa very much uses the fact that this is his birthday to exploit something from Roger. Like the victory and the fact that he has advanced to the finals of his very first French Open isn't enough already... The younger man smiles at him with that boyish smile that makes him look so much younger than he truly is and it probably should be enough of a realization to break the hold Rafa seems to have on Roger with that smile and that intense expression radiating from his eyes. Legally he may be an adult, but at heart he's very much a kid and it's simply wrong to take advantage of that... Still his words sound anything but innocent. 

“I like... I like kissing...”

Rafa's movements are slow and measured as he takes very small steps closer to Roger, closing the distance between them. He gives Roger ample time to move away, to shake his head, to reach out a hand and stop the Spaniard or to simply say no. Rafa ends up standing only inches away from him and it's the first time Roger realizes they are exactly the same height... When Rafa leans in, Roger reacts on autopilot. He closes his eyes. The kiss is a lot softer and slower this time, more careful but infinitely more intimate and Roger can feel a soft moan emanating somewhere deep in the back of his throat… When they break apart this time, Rafa's voice is barely more than a whisper and his words are simply too much to take in, too much to digest, too much to wrap his head around and way too much responsibility. Roger does the only thing he can think of – he retreats. 

“I like you, Rogi.”

“I... I have to go...”

*#*

*March 2018*

Rafa has pulled out of both ATP Masters tournaments in Indian Wells and Miami due to an ongoing problem with his hip injury sustained in that quarterfinal at the Australian Open. Whatever it is that ails him, it obviously is more serious than initially anticipated. As far as Roger is informed Rafa has actually been doing better and has traveled to Mexico to participate in a tournament in Acapulco. But while preparing for that, he has injured himself again and now he is on his way back home, basically starting from scratch with his recovery.

Roger knows he shouldn't care. Rafa doesn't want him to, doesn't need him to. He has been very clear on that when he dismissed Roger's question about the injury and about how he was doing back in Melbourne. And Roger doesn't make the same mistake twice. This time he doesn't ask, doesn't text. But that doesn't mean he simply ignores the information available. What little he can gather from what team and doctors actually allow to be published is not exactly encouraging. 

Apparently the injury is painful while still acutely bothering Rafa, limiting him in even the most basic of movements and needing it's time to heal. For Rafa that means that he can't do much of anything. Definitely no strenuous activities. No light practices, no golf, no other activities that strain the muscles... He's pretty much reduced to TV watching and sunset gazing on that Mediterranean island of his. Roger can't help but smile at the thought that Rafa is probably bored to tears already. If there is one thing Rafa simply can't do, it's to sit still... There's too much energy in him for his own good. 

But he's supposed to be fit and ready for the clay court season... A part of the calendar Roger himself is very sure he will drop out of. He has nothing to gain from those tournaments... It has worked for him the previous year and he is sure it will work for him again now. But it also means he and Rafa probably won't be seeing each other again in person until the end of June when Wimbledon comes around again this year. That is still three months from now... It's a long, long time. 

It's funny how this time apart takes things away from Roger, things he has always taken for granted because he was so used to having them. It were little things at first that started getting a little fuzzy in his memory. Like the way Rafa's warmth radiated off of him, the way he smelled – both sweaty and gloriously glistening after just having finished a match and the complete opposite, freshly showered, in a set of clean clothes and with his hair still wet... Those are the little things. 

After almost six months of barely talking though, it's even difficult to remember the other man's voice in detail. There's a general remembrance – of accent and timbre and tempo – but it's not the same. Of course Roger can use youtube or any other media platform and have a peek. But he doesn't. It would feel like cheating. He can't help but wonder what it says about their long term relationship though that it hasn't even taken half a year for him to forget the most basic things about Rafa.

What he certainly hasn't forgotten is the physical side of their relationship, the passion and intimacy of it. And he misses it – desperately so. He craves a chance for that kind of contact and it goes as far as his wife suggesting that maybe it might be a good idea to find somebody who can help Roger scratch that itch. Mirka knows of course and she is sympathetic to his plight... Or maybe it isn't altruism after all. Maybe she simply wants him to stop sulking. Because he still does – especially when his urges win the better of him... 

He doesn't act on it though. As frustrated as he gets sometimes and as much as he craves a chance to simply be with another guy again, doing this, even thinking about it, feels very much like cheating. And he doesn't want to do that. Not to Rafa. Maybe they are still both stubbornly clinging to their pride but they are not broken up. They are on a break. There is a difference. And a line Roger is unwilling to cross. 

Indian Wells works well enough for Roger. He cruises through the draw without dropping a set until the semi final. He gets into just a bit of trouble there in the first set he plays and maybe it has an effect on his mindset. He can't really tell. He's been doing well for himself up until that point, but then the day of the final comes around. It's a close match against the Argentinian del Potro and in the end what Roger brings to the court simply isn't enough for the victory. The loss, being the runner up – it stings. Not a lot but still enough to bother him. 

It's the kind of momentum that carries him to the other side of the American continent from Pacific to Atlantic and it is not helpful. As always Miami is hot and humid and there are so many Spanish speaking people that Roger feels trapped and almost mocked from time to time. It's like those days when Rafa was either in a teasing or a grumpy mood and would hurl something in Spanish at him just for the sake of doing it because he knew perfectly well that Roger wouldn't understand. If it's the weather or the memories, Roger cannot tell. The outcome however is the worst it can possibly be. Miami is an undisputed disaster. He loses to a 22 years old Australian qualifier whose name he hasn't even heard before and with that his season hiatus is starting... It's not exactly a good feeling.


	5. Zootopia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look people - I actually managed to update before the work week is over!  
> I'm proud *grins*
> 
> Once again thanks to **Dreamchatcher** and **OneLastThought** for their lovely reviews.  
> You are an inspiration.
> 
> This chapter contains probably one of my favorite (sad) flashbacks  
> Hope you like it :)
> 
> <>°O°<>

*Wimbledon 2007*

_Don't beat yourself up, don't need to run so fast  
Sometimes we come last but we did our best _

It's the damn intimacy of the Wimbledon locker room that spoils it all for Roger. He has just won the final in a very close, very intense five set match against Rafa and he still has a hard time believing it has actually happened. Of course he would never say it out loud but he is very much aware that this moment in time could have gone either way. It was close, maybe a little too close for comfort but in the end – with just a little better nerves, a tiny bit more determination and calm and maybe even a hint of better luck – Roger has prevailed.

Rafa has been gracious in defeat. As always. Basking in the glory of a well earned, well deserved victory, Roger has lost sight of the younger man at some point. He does get the need for Rafa wanting to be alone with his thoughts, his feelings, most definitely his disappointment. But he gets sucked into it without actually wanting to. There's little he can do about it. The tournament grounds are time-honored and loaded with tradition and reverence, but they also leave very little room for privacy. 

So when Roger returns to the locker room to get ready for his post match responsibilities, he's a little surprised to find Rafa's uncle, Toni Nadal, outside the room looking a little forlorn and more than just a little uncomfortable. The older man stops him, more with words than anything else but there is a hint of a step taken into Roger's direction before Rafa's uncle seems to think better of it and retreats back to his original position. There is urgency to his words though and a lot of vehemence. 

“You shouldn't go in there right now... maybe?”

Still it's more of a suggestion than a demand but it catches Roger off guard and quite frankly it manages to irritate him. He has just won the Wimbledon trophy. He is in his own little world on his own little fluffy cloud and the last thing he wants is somebody of his opponents team and family to tell him what to do. It's not even arrogance that drives him or spite. After all he has things to do. He needs to shower, he needs to change and he needs to do it in there. He's expected at a press conference and at a subsequent party in celebration and honor of the tournament winners. He can't just stay here and wait for Rafa Nadal to get over himself. 

The moment Roger enters the locker room, he knows better than to ever dismiss a suggestion from Toni Nadal ever again. Toni not wanting Roger in here right now is as much about protecting his nephew as it is about sparing Roger the awkwardness of the situation. Because at the far end of the room, pretty much slumped down on the bench is Rafa and the younger man is crying – openly, shamelessly, messily. 

Roger has never seen Rafa cry in defeat before. Not once. There have been tears of joy, of happiness, of being utterly overwhelmed with emotion due to a dreamlike situation. Like in Paris just a couple of weeks ago... Rafa had been happily crying at the trophy ceremony there. But this, this is entirely different. And it tugs at Roger's heart in a painful way that manages to make his victory and elation at the win utterly null and void. He's not even angry about it. He's simply sorry for the younger man – probably way more than he should be. Clearing his throat he gives Rafa the chance to detect him and maybe do something about his blatant display of emotion. 

The reaction is imminent and rather abrupt. Rafa looks up to face him, sniffs, wipes the back of his hand across his face in a rather unsuccessful attempt to rid himself of the tears still falling and looks very much embarrassed at being caught in such a vulnerable moment like this. Being alone with the emotionally distraught Spaniard is anything but easy for Roger either. They are both there in the same room that suddenly seems way too small for Roger's liking and the atmosphere is so tense it feels one could cut it with a knife.

It's the worst possible moment for the memory of that day of the French Open semi-final from two years ago to suddenly make an unwanted reappearance. It's like it only just happened a second ago and Roger can feel Rafa's lips on his, can taste it, can feel the heat... Shaking the thought off takes a conscious effort. They have never talked about it again, never even mentioned it again and now certainly isn't the right time. Roger doesn't even know where the thought has come from. It's not like he has been pining or anything and he's pretty sure Rafa has forgotten all about it by now... Maybe it's because of the emotional overload. But it definitely is the wrong place and the wrong time. 

Roger allows instinct to take over. Something deep inside his aching heart tells him to comfort the younger man, even if it's in vain and even if he might come across as condescending. All he wants is to help. Today is painful and disappointing for Rafa, he gets that. But it shouldn't be. Not in the long run. They have played nine matches in between, six of which Rafa has won. Today has been an exceptional feat of will and talent and determination and an overall display of improvement. The kid should be proud, he should be happy with his accomplishments. But he's not. Roger however wants him to be and that is what he sets out to do. 

Crossing the distance between them is both hard and easy at the same time. Roger comes to a stop less than a feet away from Rafa who is still sniffling and in desperate need of a tissue... or a towel. Crouching down Roger is at eye level with Rafa a moment later, the younger man's eyes teary and red and his face just a little bit paler than usual and a little puffy, making him look younger than he actually is. Roger's tries for a smile and gives Rafa back the very same words the younger man has said to him two years ago after that semi-final defeat in Paris.

“I'm sorry...”

Unlike Roger two years ago, Rafa doesn't react with anger or spite. It seems he actually appreciates the offer of a friendly word – even when it comes from the man who just beat him in the final of a Grand Slam tournament. Rafa's reaction isn't a verbal, but a physical one. He scoots forward, tentatively holds out his arms and puts them around Roger's shoulders, putting pressure on the older man as he pulls him into a hug that feels almost as intimate as it feels desperate. 

In an effort to get some pressure of his over strained knees, Roger pulls them both into a standing position. Rafa is practically clinging to him now and Roger can feel the heat of the younger man's body, the stickiness of his sweaty shirt, the warmth of his breath on his shoulder and the sound of his sniffles that still haven't fully subsided. There's no passion to the embrace, no fire fueling either of them, no desire to engage in anything a little more heated. This is simply about support and comfort. They stay like that for a long moment and in an effort to fill the silence between them, which is slowly getting suffocating, Roger is mumbling senseless words of comfort to Rafa. 

“Better luck next year, mh?”

“Is not about luck. I try... so hard. But is not enough.”

Rafa sounds utterly defeated and Roger can't stand it. Engaging in this kind of physical contact – with a length and intensity that they haven't shared for more than two years, even though this is entirely different from the kiss in Paris that day in 2005 – Roger wants something to come off his actions, something of substance. Gently but firmly, he frees himself from Rafa's grip, holding the other man by his upper arms, pushing him back a little and giving him the smallest of encouraging smiles. 

“Yeah... barely, though. That has to count for something?”

Rafa smiles at that and Roger feels a comfortable warmth spreading in the pit of his stomach.. It's so much nicer to see Rafa smile instead of cry... The effort is definitely worth it, but being honest with himself, Roger has no idea why he is even saying any of these things. It's not like he is actually sorry he has won. He's elated and happy and very much satisfied with himself and his performance. But he is equally as gutted with the desperation that has been radiating off of Rafa when Roger first came in here. In the end what he wants is for both of them to be happy... which is difficult to achieve in a sport where there can only be one victor... Today however is a special day and Roger actually gets what he wants – to some extent. When Rafa smiles at him, he still looks very sad and lost but the gesture is genuine. 

“Thank you, Rogi.”

*#*

*April/May 2018*

There is an ongoing debate whether or not Roger will be at Monte Carlo and Rafa has quite a hard time figuring out how he feels about it. It wouldn't be the first time Roger opts out of the clay court season and of course Roger's scheduling is his own affair. It's not something they have ever indulged in – telling each other what is best for their careers and their overall scheduling. But usually Rafa would know by now what the Swiss' plans are. He wouldn't have to read about it in a press statement. But that is their agreement and Rafa is abiding by it – per Roger's request.

In the end Roger skips out on the entire clay court season including the French Open and he isn't even shy to admit that he is doing it to avoid Rafa. Of course he doesn't say it on a personal level, but keeps things strictly business, talking about their head to head and how clay is Rafa's favorite surface and of course Roger doesn't want to meet him on that because it can only hurt his game and legacy and he doesn't want or need that.

The implications of what Roger has to say run way deeper than that though, or at least they do for Rafa. This isn't about tennis or rivalry or legacy. This is about them, about their relationship, about the way things have been for them ever since Shanghai. It's a very open display of disinterest and distance and even after all these months it still things to be ignored and pushed aside like this. It's not like Roger has anything better to do. After all he is a professional tennis player, which means he should play the damn sport, not avoid it. 

Rafa tells himself he could care less. He has his own game, his own preparation and his own abilities to think about. Maybe some people think about him that way – especially when it comes to tournaments being played on clay – but these things don't come naturally to him. He can't just show up at a tournament and win it just because he is Rafa Nadal. It takes preparation and practice and a lot of willpower and determination. After a months and a half with no match practice and very little of that integral preparation, playing two tournaments back to back is a monumental effort. 

It works out surprisingly well, both in Monte Carlo and in Barcelona. He doesn't drop even a single set during both tournaments and even Rafa himself is a little surprised how easily things seem to return to a semblance of normal for him. At least professionally. The injury break and long phase of recovery certainly haven't weakened his game. But still happiness is a far way off for him. Because as well as things are going for him with his tennis and the clay court season so far, there is still a monumental void in his private life and it has Roger's shape. 

Of course things can't stay perfect forever, as is so often the case in life. Rafa knows something is off by the time he reaches Madrid and once again it's the two German speaking youngsters who are at fault for the change and drop in his mood. It seems Dominic and Sascha are spending a lot of time together and Rafa's hope that they have gotten over the excitement that was Laver Cup has been in vain. He pretty much stumbles across them in the player's lounge on the tournament grounds prior to the event starting. They are engrossed in conversation in their native tongue, which he doesn't understand and doesn't actually want to intrude on, until he hears both his name and Roger's in the same sentence. It peaks his interest... and his irritation. The decision to walk over and interrupt them isn't even a conscious one.

“Hola.”

“Rafa, hi...”

Both younger men seem pleased but surprised to have him stop by like this. Rafa on the other hand doesn't even try to play nice and exchange pleasantries with the two. It's not what he came over for. He wants to know what they have been talking about, what they have been saying about him and Roger. Above all he wants a chance to find out if any of Roger's worries and predictions from seven months ago have any substance to themselves. If these two are still talking about him and Roger after all this time... maybe the Swiss hasn't been wrong to ask for them to break up. Maybe it has actually been a sound decision... Somehow that thought only manages to make Rafa even more angry. 

“I overhear. You say my name... and Roger's.”

“Yeah, we were talking about Laver Cup...”

The two youngsters sound a little nervous but Rafa doesn't really pay attention. He is too focused on the topic. Laver Cup again – even the mention of the event is enough to send his emotions into overdrive. He has come to hate even the thought of that weekend because it has destroyed so much for him... His relationship, the intimacy he shared with Roger, the happiness that once belonged to them... Rafa can't help the scowl that appears on his face at the thought. He's very much aware that his emotions shine through in his facial expression and obviously that is quite an intimidating sight to see. The two younger men look and sound very much uncomfortable in his presence now. 

“We enjoyed the experience.”

Rafa forces himself to smile and tries his hardest not to look like he's about to eat those two alive. He's pretty sure it isn't exactly working out. But it's neither Dominic's nor Sascha's fault that Roger has broken up with Rafa about something these two have gossiped about. They are grown up men and they have every right and reason to talk about whatever they want. It's hard but Rafa tries to be pleasant – if only for the sake of not making a scene and giving both Dominic and Sascha even more incentive to gossip and question his behavior.

“Was nice, no?”

“Yes, very nice. And fun... And educational. We really enjoyed it. The atmosphere, the tension...”

“The bromance.”

It's the German who adds the little quip and Rafa has a hard time not to flinch at the use of the word. He knows what it means of course. It isn't the first time somebody has used it to describe the way he and Roger interact with one another. But it's the first time somebody says it that openly right to his face. Rafa raises an eyebrow at the mention and Sascha has the decency to actually look embarrassed. He averts his gaze quickly enough and mumbles an apology. It doesn't help to soothe Rafa's feelings though.

“Sorry.”

“You think is funny?”

He sounds a lot more defensive than he would like and these two are probably thinking he has either lost his mind or every last sense of decency and hospitality. They look very much uneasy and apprehensive now, hurrying to explain themselves in order to hopefully resolve the tension that has appeared between the three of them seemingly out of nowhere over what should have been a pleasant memory for all three of them to share. It's hard to let things slide and to accept that neither Sascha nor Dominic meant anything bad by what they have been saying. 

“No! Not funny. It was just... Nice to see you two like that. I mean there's always been a lot of respect and general friendliness but you were so easy and happy around one another that weekend. It was... endearing. It was special.”

It is neither fun nor endearing nor special to Rafa. It's a damn disaster. But he can't say any of that to the two younger men. He probably shouldn't have engaged in this conversation from the beginning but now the harm is done and all he can still try to do is some damage control... by getting out o the situation as soon as possible. His tone of voice is clipped and the expression on his face betrays the fact that his words are a shameless lie. Bu for better or worse, neither the Austrian nor the German comment on it and Rafa simply walks away afterwards hoping against hope he hasn't made a fool of himself.

“Happy you enjoyed it.”

His pre tournament press conference a day later has him slipping up between languages as they turn from Spanish to English. Something that hasn't happened to him ever before. The journalists find it hilarious of course but all Rafa feels is tired – tired and frustrated and about ready to simply throw in the towel, go back home and relax for a little while. It's all been too much – two tournaments back to back, Domi and Sascha, the memory of that godawful night back in Shanghai arguing with Roger, the silence, the distance, the sheer absence of the older man... It's too much to handle. 

Rafa gets his wish sooner than anticipated. His quarter final opponent is Dominic and after their encounter prior to the tournament starting, the fact that the younger man is there and playing and actually doing a great job of it, is quite frankly irritating. The Austrian plays a great match, Rafa finds himself frustrated and preoccupied and in the end, Dominic is through to the semi-finals and Rafa is left trying to find out and explain to himself how the hell he allowed his emotions to win the better of him like that. He can't.


	6. Hercules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally managed an early update on this story - I'm so proud :-D  
> And we're officially halfway through as of today.
> 
> Once again thanks to my two faithful reviewers!  
> You deserve hugs and kisses!!
> 
> Here's the new one.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> <>°O°<>

*Shanghai 2007*

_No chance no way I won't say it, no no, this scene won't play I won't say I'm in love  
You're way off base I won't say it, get off my case I won't say it  
At least out loud I won't say I'm in love _

Roger knows it the moment he steps out on court. Today he is going to win. It's not a good feeling though. Because it's not the fact that he is better prepared or playing the tennis of his life. It is due to the fact that he is playing an injured opponent, who simply doesn't seem to know when to stop even if it would be the better choice. Both of Rafa's knees are heavily taped and bandaged, supposedly to help support them better. It's not working out in Rafa' favor exactly though. 

The Spaniard is not on his A game. He probably isn't even on his C or D game. He defeats Rafa 6:4, 6:1 and by the time the second set is underway, Rafa is very much running on fumes. He sends balls either long or directly into the net, his service games are a mess of errors and still he simply refuses to give up. Roger tries to run Rafa around the court, tries to keep points short but the younger man is too damn stubborn for his own good. No matter how hard he tries though, there is no way to turn the match around any more. There equally is no chance for Roger to win the set to love. Rafa simply won't let him. 

After the match, the locker room is void of people except Rafa when Roger enters it. He hasn't exactly been sneaky or careful but either the Spaniard is ignoring him or he's too engrossed in his own mind and hasn't detected Roger yet. Either way it gives the Swiss the unique chance to keep an eye on Rafa without the younger man actually being aware of it. It's not that Roger feels an urgent desire for voyeurism... But it's simply nice to watch Rafa, has been to Roger for quite a while now.

He stops, keeping out of the younger man's sight and watches as Rafa sits there on the bench, keeping his gaze down to the floor. He is absent mindedly picking at the tape used to bandage both his knees but hasn't done much else about it. When Rafa looks up, Roger doesn't like what he sees. Unlike at Wimbledon, Rafa doesn't look defeated or forlorn. He simply looks frustrated and very much angry. It's an unfamiliar expression on Rafa's face and incomprehensibly enough it's also a salacious one.

The thought generates somewhere within the depths of Roger's mind and he feels his cheeks grow warm as the emotion actually reaches his conscious thinking. He shouldn't feel about Rafa like this, he shouldn't care like this but it is happening anyway and Roger can't help it. Rafa's expression never changes but at least he seems to have gotten over his initial stupor. He no longer sits still, staring at the ground but is busy looking for something. 

The younger man still hasn't detected Roger yet, engrossed in the action of getting rid of the offensive taping that was supposed to help support his injured knees throughout the match. Now that the match is done and there is no need for the support any more, Rafa – now no longer numbly sitting there - can't get rid of the taping fast enough. He has been rummaging through his bag for a while now and finally comes up with a pair of medical scissors. 

Roger watches as Rafa cuts through the tape almost violently. Would those be real scissors and not the medical ones that are blunted at the edges, he's pretty sure Rafa would have managed to cut into the skin. This way nothing happens. The medical tape sticks to the bronze skin in places and Rafa is ripping at it, getting rid of the last remnants reminding of the match and the very fact that today his own body has decided to fail and betray him... 

Roger expects Rafa to stop now that he has rid himself of the offending pieces of medical equipment but it seems now that he has started, Rafa can't wait to get rid of his match outfit in full force. The Spaniard starts simple enough, slipping out of both his shoes and socks, leaving them stranded on the ground before he gets up from the bench almost tentatively, obviously testing how well his own legs are holding him without the added support of the medical tape beneath his ailing knees. 

It seems to work alright for Rafa, though Roger can hardly tell. The younger man stands, face turned away from him, making it impossible for Roger to get a good look at Rafa's face and the expression he wears. He's distracted either way, as Rafa grabs the hem of his aquamarine, sleeveless shirt, pulls it up over his head and drops it to the ground next to him without a second glance. Up until now it's still a familiar sight to Roger. He's used to seeing Rafa change his shirt on court, used to the sight of the tanned skin, glistening with sweat.

And yet this one feels completely different and a million times more intimate. Out there on a tennis court during a match there are thousands of people watching along. In here it's just the two of them... and right now Rafa isn't even aware Roger is watching. Which is probably the only reason why Rafa doesn't stop with the shirt. It's not like the younger man is particularly shy about his own body but still dropping his pants and underwear isn't usually something he would do right in the middle of the locker room.

This time however it's different and Roger finds his mouth running dry at the sight of Rafa hooking both his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and pulling them and the underwear beneath it down to his knees. From here on out gravity does the rest for him and all the Spaniard still has to do is step out of the heap of discarded clothing on the ground. Roger is treated to the glorious look of Rafa's bare back and muscled ass. The younger man moves, purposefully striding forward, ready to get into the shower to wash away the sweat... and most definitely the bitter feeling of defeat as well. 

Roger follows as if he is on autopilot. Nothing he does – dropping his bags to the ground, taking a first, a second and then a third step to follow Rafa, stopping by the bench to pick up the Spaniards clothes discarded on the ground and dropping them onto the bench in a neat pile – happens consciously. Everything he does is instinct – a pure, almost animalistic instinct – and it carries him right after Rafa and into the showers. He has started this and now he wants to see it through.

When Roger steps into the adjacent room, the water is already running, swallowing the sound of his own feet on the tiled floor. Rafa is there, water running down his naked body and he still has his back on Roger, oblivious to the presence of the other man. Roger actually licks across his lips at the sight and ever so slightly and carefully, he moves closer, his mind still void of any other thought but the sight in front of him. He is close enough to touch a couple of seconds later and he doesn't think twice about it. His fingers reach out, touching the curve of Rafa's spine at the small of his back at the very same moment that the words – raw with emotion and barely contained lust – pour past his lips. 

“Good God... you're making me crazy...”

Rafa flinches so violently at the touch that not only does Roger pull his hand back as if burned, he actually takes a step back, putting distance between himself and the younger man. Rafa has turned around, turned to face the unexpected threat and finally Roger is treated to a full frontal sight of nudity in all it's glory, with the water still spraying and the droplets of it running down the tanned skin. Unfortunately he gets no chance to appreciate the sight because they are both too taken aback by what has just happened. 

Rafa is first to recover, very suddenly and very acutely aware of the way he is exposed and vulnerable, standing there in the spray of the shower's warm water completely naked, while Roger is still fully dressed. Rafa grabs for the towel he has taken along, wrapping himself in it, protecting what little of his modesty and dignity is still left to him before he retreats. It's more of a flight than a retreat though as he practically runs from the room, runs from Roger and never once turns back. Roger almost fears the younger man to fall with his wet feet on the slick tiles, but judging from the pitter patter of feet, Rafa manages alright. The whole exchange between them happens in complete and utter silence, only adding to how surreal the whole thing feels...

It takes less than two minutes and Roger can only guess from the rustling of fabric and other, less easily interpreted sounds for Rafa to be in some state of being dressed again. The Swiss can hear hurried footsteps again and then a door is falling closed and Rafa is gone... Roger takes a deep breath, movement finally returning to him along with the rest of his senses and he realizes he is still standing in the shower with the water running and the little puddles of it forming on the ground seeping through his shoes and drenching his socks. He reaches out a hand, his arm getting wet in the process and shuts the running water of the shower off. 

The facts of what he has done only sink in very, very slowly... He has been completely out of line, completely out of his mind apparently. He has pretty much been stalking a fellow player, watching him undress, touching him without permission... All of it combined it is no wonder Rafa has run away from him. Roger knows all to well he never should have done this... And still he isn't sure if he would have been able to stop himself, even if he would have wanted to... There is something happening, something he has no control over and that he better figures out quickly if he wants to regain his composure any time soon. He takes another deep breath and starts muttering to himself, hoping against hope to convince himself of his own, very fleeting resolve. 

“It's nothing. Nothing... Just attraction. Just the allure of something you cannot have. It's physical... It'll pass... Just breathe and forget about it. It's just passion... maybe a bit of lust. It's all instinct. No emotion. There's no emotion... You are not in love.”

*#*

*Roland Garros 2018* 

Paris has a special place in Rafa's heart and he doesn't simply say that to please the tournament organizers at Roland Garros or the French press and the fans. He says it because he means it and because it is exactly how he feels about the city. Ever since his very first title here, 13 years back Rafa has connected with the city, has appreciated it's beauty and unique atmosphere in a way that he only ever feels about home... It's like a second home this place and maybe that is what makes him feel so at ease being here. 

He doesn't miss Roger, not this time around. He's used to the feeling of not having the other man around by now and it's easier here in Paris still because Roger already opted out of playing the tournament a year ago when they were still together and happy... Rafa had been disappointed then. He's uncaring this time around. From a strictly professional point of view, it's a good thing Roger isn't here. From a personal and emotional point of view... He doesn't allow himself to think about that much. Not since Madrid and the near disaster it has caused when he had very much made a fool of himself while talking to Sascha and Domi, scolding them for the way they had talked about him and Roger. It has taken a little while for the realization to sink in but by now Rafa is very much aware that he could have handled the situation better... and maybe could have played a better tournament as well.

It doesn't matter, not any more. What is done is done and with the clay court season coming to a close here at the French Open, he tries not to dwell on the past couple of weeks too much. Roger isn't here and that is his choice. Rafa is happy to be where he belongs and that is very much the way he wants it. As for how these two weeks go and what he will be willing and able to achieve – the sky is the limit. Or at least that is what Rafa hopes for. No matter how many times people praise him and call him a king or a god or unbeatable on the surface, Rafa is very much aware of the fact that a loss – even an early one – is always a possibility. If the break-up with Roger has taught him one think, than it is that even the most unthinkable and unwanted things are possible... Like losing early at Roland Garros... or like breaking up with a long term partner and lover, for no apparent reason... 

There are no upsets for him though, not really and Rafa takes that fact with every ounce of appreciation he can muster. Some of the matches he plays are easier than others. Overall he drops exactly one set throughout the entire tournament. It's in the quarterfinal match, which takes a second day to finish but this is actually a blessing in disguise. He's sharper and more focused on that second day and it helps him win a match that has been a lot closer and more difficult to deal with the day before. 

Everything is different, everything's the same. It's almost like a theme and it holds true for the interactions with his fellow players as well. Especially when it comes to Sascha and Dominic again. Of course they are both here and however awkward they might have felt about him in Madrid, that feeling doesn't seem to have been holding out for too long. Here in Paris, they are perfectly happy and comfortable around him again. It's surprising but not in an unpleasant way. It seems these two forget all too easily...

It is a thought though that nags at Rafa just a little bit, a thought he wants to share with Roger. He wants to tell the older man that even the two most vocal fellow players poking fun at him and Roger about the way they acted around each other at Laver Cup have completely forgotten about it by now. It means there is no reason to worry... no reason to avoid one another. But he can't exactly tell Roger any of this because he set himself up for that. He was the one to insist on a fight, a discussion, on letting hos own pride get in the way of a useful exchange of arguments. He is the one who told Roger to tell him when it's okay to talk again. He is the one to expect Roger to make the first move. And that expectations still stands. 

His birthday ends up being on an off day in between matches and it is only then that Rafa is informed of the fact that Roger is in Paris as well. The prospect is an exciting one and for the longest of times he is sure the Swiss has finally seen the light at the end of this very long, winding tunnel that have been the last eight months and is ready to make the first step, get over his pride and finally talk to him again. It would be the perfect birthday gift... 

But it doesn't happen. They are in the same town at the very same time and Roger has to be acutely aware of the fact that it is indeed Rafa's birthday. But he doesn't do anything about it. He doesn't show up, he doesn't call, he doesn't send some sort of present and doesn't so much as send a message to Rafa. Instead Roger simply and utterly ignores both him and the fact that he has gotten yet another year older. 

It's not like Rafa needs a birthday greeting and a couple of nice words from Roger. After more than half a year apart – and by now Rafa has come to learn to think of it as a break-up and not a break – he is used to not having contact with Roger. So he doesn't crave the Swiss attention on his birthday. But he is still disappointed when their isn't so much as a message... Friends acknowledge one another when they get a year older... Apparently they aren't even that anymore

Dominic is waiting for him in the final yet again but unlike in Madrid, this time the younger man does not have the upper hand. Apart from a little bit of a health scare close to the end of the match, with his fingers of the left hand cramping up and leaving him pretty much unable to hold on to the racket for the longest of moments. It's a new and unexpected problem, something that has never happened to him like this before and it leaves him pretty rattled for a service game or two. But with the help of a physio and with the taping on his wrists gone, it turns out to be a fluke more than an actual problem. The rest of the third set practically flies by from there on out and even though he is a little tentative at first, his tendons and muscles in the afflicted hand hold strong after the treatment. 

And then the match is over, with a ball going long from Dominic and his record-breaking 11th French Open title is a very solid reality. It's an emotional moment, a happy one and a melancholy one all the same. He has outdone his very own record yet again and he is very much aware that there will only be so many tries for him left... He feels just a tiny bit worn and old at the thought... But overall he is happy and proud of himself and his accomplishments. His 'campaign' here in Paris ends as it should... and from here on out – with the epic 2008 Wimbledon final celebrating it's 10th anniversary – a touch of fate hangs in the air. Maybe it's enough to finally grant him a good run at Wimbledon after years of early losses... and maybe it's even enough for a chance to reconcile with Roger...


	7. Mulan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing much to say. Intensely exhausting week.  
> So I really had no chance to get to this earlier.
> 
> Thanks as always to my faithful reviewers :)
> 
> Hope you like the update
> 
> <>°O°<>

*December 2007*

_Can it be I'm not meant to play this part?  
Now I see that if I were truly to be myself  
I would break my family's heart _

Rafa still feels very much embarrassed that he has run away from Roger that day in Shanghai after their match. There is no other way to describe it, no way to rationalize it. He has run, he has acted like a coward and he has not given things between him and Roger a chance to play out. Two and a half years of waiting and pining and in that moment where he finally has Roger right where he wants him, he chokes at the chance... 

Rafa still has a hard time explaining what has happened. He has been very much surprised in that moment when he felt Roger's fingers trailing his back. His reaction has been an intuitive one and instinct has told him to retreat in that moment. He had felt exposed and vulnerable and he has no idea why. Roger hasn't tried to hurt him, hasn't tried to force himself on him. He was simply there, appreciating the sight he has been treated to. It was a perfect chance to finally engage in more than just mutual pining. But the chance has passed him by and it's all Rafa's fault. 

In the end it is fairly easy. It is responsibility and obligation that has kept him back., even though he has hardly been aware of that in the situation. But that's the way it is. Deep down it's that feeling of having to do right by his family and by his girlfriend that has send him running. And it's fear – lots and lots of it. Because deep down he's afraid of the way he feels – about Roger, about his general interest in other men, about himself. He has a hard time understanding himself and he is sure the people around him – the people he loves and trusts – will have an even harder time. Understanding it isn't even the main problem though. Accepting it is. 

Rafa loves his family with all his heart and he adores Francisca just as much. His family is proud of him – not only because of his accomplishments but because they are happy with the person he is, the human being he has developed into. They love him for who he is... but the problem with that is that they don't know the whole truth. And he can't help but feel that it will crush that love and trust and pride if he tells them. 

His family won't understand. He is sure of that. They are not a religious family but still Rafa would never go as far as calling his parents or the rest of his immediate family progressive. They love him, they are proud of him but he isn't sure they will be able to accept him – not for all that he is... It's not like he can't talk to them about it. He could try of course. But he is sure there would be a shift in the way they look at him. And he doesn't want that. Not on the off chance of maybe having some sort of physical relationship with a man he has no idea of his intentions and feelings about. He doesn't know how Roger feels about him, not really. All he knows is that there is some sort of physical attraction... and that certainly isn't enough to risk the balance and happiness of his family life. 

Then of course there is Francisca and even more so than his family, she deserves to be treated with care and respect and to not be abandoned and discarded for the off chance of a moment of passion. She has been there for him and with him for a long time. She's more than a partner to him. What they have and share goes deeper on a multitude of levels – she's his friend, his confidante and she has always been patient with him. She deserves better and he wants to do right by her.

It's the uncertainty of it all, combined with the fact that he is not a big fan of change. He wants things to stay the way they are – with his family, with his friends, with his girlfriend. But at the very same time he wants things to change with Roger. He had the chance for it right there for him to grasp but he has run out on it and it seems that is the punishment he has to endure for his cowardice. He could have stayed, he could have given Roger a chance to touch him again and who knows what might have come of it. Maybe nothing, maybe something that is entirely physical and void of any other emotion but passion. But he won't know, not for sure, not ever. 

He craves a chance to talk to the Swiss, to ask him about that evening in Shanghai. So that he knows for sure, knows what to make of it and decide from there on out. If only he knew what Roger's intentions, what his feelings are, it would be that much easier to decide, to measure whether or not it is a good idea to tell his family and friends about all he is and hope for them to understand and love him despite any and all of his shortcomings... But he doesn't know and he lacks the bravery to act on so much as a hunch. Not with everything that is at stake. He likes Roger – more than just a little – but he can't bring himself to throw away the stability and happiness of his family life over it. Not at a chance, not on a whim and without knowing what he is getting himself into.

Maybe he is giving his family too little credit. Maybe they will be understanding and there will be no change whatsoever if he tells them how he feels about his own sexuality. Maybe they'll love him even more for his honesty and the fact that he confides in them. Maybe it changes nothing... But Rafa's unwilling to find out. Just like back in Shanghai that day, he's too much of a coward to stay and hope and let things play out. Just like in Shanghai he runs from the possibilities. In the end all he can do is to endure and accept. Endure the uncertainty of what could have happened in Shanghai if only he had reacted differently and accept that it is not what has happened. He has been going through the motions with his feelings about Roger for two years now... He can keep on doing it in the future.

*#*

*Wimbledon 2018*

Rafa's team and family are more than pleased with his decision to skip the tournament at Queens Club and do his grass court preparation at home on Mallorca, while subsequently taking a little time off as well, enjoying both the island and a chance to be out to the sea. It's a relaxing experience, different from previous years and to Rafa it feels quite enjoyable. He has scarcely ever felt this relaxed going into the third Grand Slam tournament of the year and he feels very good about his preparation and the prospects of what he can achieve. 

Roger plays two tournaments in Germany prior to Wimbledon, winning one of them and losing the other one in the final. It means he retains the Number One ranking in between but with the loss in the final of Halle, Rafa goes to Wimbledon being back to the top spot. 

Rafa has rarely felt more relaxed coming to Wimbledon as he does this year. It's a Grand Slam tournament, the most prestigious of them all and still it feels a lot like coming home. Wimbledon has always been sort of different, a little more intimate, a little more domestic. It's due to the fact that he rents a house with his team and family instead of a couple of hotel rooms, it's due to the fact that they cook instead of going out to restaurants, it's due to the fact that he rides a shoddy bike to the grocery store and walks the distance between the house and the tournament grounds instead of having a driver take him. He likes the simplicity of it all. He likes that it feels normal.

Of course that feeling of normalcy doesn't last very long The moment his responsibilities towards the media come into play, things aren't all that easy any more. It's all due to the fact that ten years ago he has won his first Wimbledon title here. And it's not all he has won and achieved that day... But that is not for the wide public to know – now more than ever. There are a lot of questions about the 2008 final. People – especially journalists – seem to have a special thing for anniversaries. 

It is really hard to talk about because Wimbledon 2008 and the direct aftermath of his victory over Roger holds such a special place in Rafa's heart. Not only because of the title and the trophy and the victory. But because it is the crucial moment in their now broken relationship when everything had changed and shifted and turned into something new and exciting and different. It's the pivotal moment when something that had been illusive and fleeting for so long, finally turned into something substantial. It's a beautiful memory... and a bittersweet one. 

This is how and where it all began, this is when all of that unrequited tension and passion between them had finally come to a head and they had acted on it – desperately, and without a second thought for any consequences. This had been their beginning... the start of something unique, something that – as it seems – is irrevocably over by now and being reminded of that in every last interview and press conference simply hurts. 

They ask him if he wants a rematch of that final in one of the press conferences and Rafa responds that it would be stupid of him if he actually wished to play a final against Roger. He means it as a compliment but Rafa has the distinct feeling it won't be taken as such by Roger. These days no matter what they do or say, they both manage to put the worst possible spin on the meaning of their words. At least that is the way Rafa feels about it. He can't say how Roger feels. They don't talk about that any more.

What he does know is that the Swiss is a lot more open to the idea of talking about the 10th anniversary of that first final at Wimbledon Rafa has won. It seems Roger actually enjoys the chance to reminisce and Rafa is pretty sure it is not because of the match or the anniversary. Nobody enjoys reliving a loss, even if it comes at the end of a great match and tournament. It isn't the match Roger relives... It's what happened afterwards and what has come to a close ever since Shanghai last year. 

Wimbledon is a great experience and it is slightly different from the previous years. The weather is warmer and drier, the conditions favor Rafa just a little bot more and for the first time in seven years he actually manages to reach the second week of the tournament. His team is happy, his family is elated and Rafa shares both their sentiments. It has been a great tournament so far and the melancholy he has felt in those first days when all people seemed to want to talk to him about was the final ten years ago has long since abated. 

It all comes to a sudden close when the quarterfinals come around. He is playing del Potro and Roger is on Court 1 playing his match against Kevin Anderson. Roger loses that very long quarterfinal match that day and it happens right while Rafa is out on Center Court, dealing with the adversity that is his own opponent. It's on one of Rafa's changeovers when the final point of Roger's match is played and of course he sees the result on the scoreboard. It's hard to fathom for the longest of moments and Rafa allows it to distract him. 

It throws him off his game for a little while and he loses two consecutive sets, giving the advantage of this quarterfinal to the Argentinian. In between sets three and four, Rafa is very much frustrated and angry with himself. It's like some kind of muscle memory only that it pertains to his emotions. He shouldn't care that Roger has lost, he shouldn't allow it to affect him and he certainly shouldn't allow the Swiss to be the sole reason for him not being able to reach his first Wimbledon semifinal and a chance at a third title in seven years. It's not what they are and mean to one another any more. Roger gets no hold over his life like that – not any more. 

Rafa turns the match around in his favor. It's incredible tennis played on both player's parts and he isn't shy to admit that both him and Juan Martin would have been deserving to win. Unsurprisingly enough it's not only his match and victory the press wants to hear about. Of course they ask him about Roger's exit in the quarterfinal and the fact that there is no chance for a rematch of the 2008 final now. There isn't much Rafa can say about it. He hasn't seen any of it, as they have both been out on court and quite frankly he doesn't want to see any of it. He attests to the fact that it is a difficult day for Roger, congratulates Anderson for his win and obviously his tone of voice and facial expression make it abundantly clear that this is the extent of what he wants to say on the matter.

Being back at his rented house that evening, Rafa debates long and hard whether he wants to send a message to the older man. The problem is that he has no idea what to say. 'Sorry'? What for? It's not like it's his fault or doing that Roger is out of the competition. 'I would have liked a final against you'? Not true. He has said as much in his interviews and he meant what he said. A rematch against Roger would have been a tremendously difficult match to play. 'Are you okay'? Stupid question. Of course he knows Roger is not okay. It's a devastating defeat and the Swiss is bound to feel gutted. Asking him about it certainly cannot help.

So in the end Rafa opts out of asking or saying anything to Roger. He doesn't call, doesn't text, doesn't walk over to where the older man has set up with his team and family just a couple of blocks away. After all Wimbledon is a village... it's hard to put too much distance between one another. By the time Rafa loses his semifinal match against Novak – after a very close, very intense, very high level match over two consecutive days – Roger has already left Wimbledon. Rafa follows suit – happy with his accomplishments, happy with the way the tournament has been going for him and with just a hint of melancholy left at the memory of a time that is long since passed.


	8. Beauty and the beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick update in between as I found a couple of quiet minutes for posting.  
> Hope you like it!
> 
> <>°O°<>

*Wimbledon 2008*

_Tale as old as time, true as it can be  
Barely even friends, then somebody bends unexpectedly  
Just a little change, small to say the least  
Both a little scared, neither one prepared_

It's a dream, a dream that has turned into a very surreal reality and grasping it, making that dream a reality he can actually hold on to and understand still eludes Rafa. The final point of the Wimbledon final has been played less than 30 minutes ago, he has shared the victory – the overwhelming emotion of it all – with his family, the trophy has been presented to him, he has made the rounds on Center Court allowing fans and media to take pictures and now he is back into the catacombs of Center Court and at a loss of what to do.

People are still coming up to him to congratulate him, talk to him, give him words of awe and praise, most of which don't actually stay with him. He's surrounded by family and friends and they couldn't be prouder or happier. To him the realization of what he has achieved has not really sunken in yet. It will probably need another day or two... or maybe even a week. All he knows is that this is a special evening for him – one that shouldn't be spoiled by any kind of negative feelings.

Unfortunately that's exactly what is bothering him right now – just a little but still the feeling is there. It's a simple fact of the sport that there can only be one victor in a final. Today that victor is Rafa and Roger is the one left broken and defeated. A year ago it was exactly the other way around... They have shared a brief moment in passing on Center Court after the match, parading their trophies around but ever since then, Rafa hasn't seen Roger again. 

He knows Roger is close though and it has been a sensible and sensitive decision to give Roger the privacy of the locker room. He wants the other man to have a chance to regroup and regain his composure. Rafa knows first hand how awful it feels to lose a close final here at Wimbledon on Center Court. It has happened to him exactly a year ago and Roger has been there to offer his support. This time around Rafa wants to return the favor. 

So far he hasn't mustered up the courage to actually go talk to Roger in private yet. It would be a lot easier if Rafa actually knew what he wants to say to the Swiss. He doesn't though and he would rather avoid the confrontation. But unfortunately there are responsibilities he has to attend to and sooner rather than later they find themselves together in the familiarity of Wimbledon's locker room again. Rafa is supposed to be purposeful and in a little bit of a hurry to get ready for his post match responsibilities and the victor's party where they are waiting for him.

But he simply can't ignore Roger who is still sitting on the bench in the locker room in his match outfit and very much looks like he hasn't moved an inch since he has come in here. He looks heartbroken and gutted and very much like the world has simply just ended for him. Rafa still has no idea what to say but he steps up to the older man anyway, putting a small smile on his face and hoping against hope that the right words will come to him. In the end Rafa decides on honesty. 

“I no know what to say...”

“That's okay. You don't have to say anything.”

Roger – who hasn't taken his eyes of the ground until now – looks up at him, face a little puffy and ice red rimmed from crying. Rafa finds himself staring, swallowing hard. Each and every last one of Roger's movements are measured and slow as he gets up from the bench now. Rafa has no idea what to expect – he is prepared for anything from an emotional outburst to a hug to even a slap... What Roger does however takes him by surprise. 

Instead of talking or letting his misery win the better of him, it's another emotion that wins the better of Roger. It's been another half year that he has waited for a chance like this – the two of them alone together in an intimate setting and this time he will not allow Rafa to run from him again. If he can't win out on a tennis court, he is going to be victorious in here and he will finally take from the younger man what he has been waiting for for what feels like an eternity. 

Roger leans in closer, lips slightly parted and unlike in Shanghai this time Rafa's instincts don't tell him to run. They tell him to accept what is offered to him. His eyes fall closed without a conscious thought, his own lips part ever so slightly and a split second later they are kissing. It's a moment that seems to slow, the reality around them freezing. It's different from that time in Paris, different from that shocking moment in Shanghai. It's all new and still painfully familiar at the same time.   
There's passion to it, desperation almost and the feel of the other man's soft lips on his feels so good, so right that it's almost physically painful. They stay like this for a long while and when they break apart, both of them panting lightly, Roger's voice is low and raw and full of barely controlled emotion. 

“You owe me one.”

There is no need to ask what the words imply and Rafa is bestowed with a phone number and the demand by the Swiss to call him as soon as he is free of the last of his responsibilities. Rafa is more than willing to comply. They part ways like nothing has happened between them and the rest of the evening and the night up until the early morning hours pass by in a blur for Rafa. He's back at the house and ready for bed at around 4 in the morning and – hoping against hope for Roger to still be awake - sends a quick text to Roger then. The answer doesn't take long and the older man replies, telling him to come over.

It feels a lot like he's a teenager doing something forbidden. Sneaking out of the house, not telling anybody where he is going. The night air is breezy but not cold and the goosebumps forming on Rafa's bare arms as he walks the few blocks between his and Roger's rented house do not appear due to the weather conditions. It's the anticipation, the uncertainty of what to expect of what will happen between them now that causes the physical reaction... Rafa truly can't get to Roger's house fast enough... and at the same time every last instinct tells him to turn tail and run. But this time he stays strong through his swirling emotions.

Roger is waiting for him by the front door in sweats and a dark shirt, letting him in without waking anybody else up. It would most definitely raise a lot of questions if they are seen together like this but Rafa doesn't really care. He's too nervous about the meeting, about the situation at hand, to care too much about any repercussions. Roger lets him inside and leads him up the stairs to one of the bedrooms. It's awkward the way they stand together in the room that suddenly seems way too small for the two of them. Roger is first to break the silence and Rafa is grateful that they talk about something that is not loaded with all the emotion of the final and the tension of them meeting here like this. 

“How's the knee?”

“Is fine. I have massage and take a pill for the pain.”

They fall silent again and this time even Roger can't think of anything to pick up the conversation and talk about something that is not loaded with innuendo. He's impatient and bursting with tension and the desire to finally get a chance to put his hands on the younger man again, that make it very hard to be a good host. The way Rafa is standing there in his casual clothes, just a few feet away from the damn bed, it's almost too much to take. Roger drops every pretense and decides to get straight to the point. After all they haven't met here for a pleasant conversation... They've met here because he told Rafa he owes him this and because the younger man is eagerly willing to comply with Roger's wishes. That certainly doesn't mean he is willing to take advantage of Rafa though. This is supposed to be special – for the both of them. 

“Have you... done this before?”

Rafa takes a moment to think about the question and actually blushes just a tiny little bit before he shakes his head no, unable to hide his nervousness and apprehension away. Roger is sure he has never seen anyone more beautiful than Rafa in that moment, eyes averted, a soft rosiness to his cheeks, nervously fiddling with his hands without finding anything purposeful for them to do. When Rafa looks at him it's all to clear he has no idea what to expect. … He doesn't even have to ask Roger in turn about his own experiences. The Swiss is very much aware of how unsure Rafa feels and volunteers any information on his part freely. 

“I haven't done this in a while... I was seventeen, I think. I'm a little rusty I guess and I don't want to risk hurting you... But I want this... badly. I want... you.”

“I want you too...”

There isn't any more conversation necessary. They are both very clear on what they want and they are equally clear that right here and now is the moment for it to happen. Maybe there should be more words, more questions but it can only ruin the fragile moment they share. So Rafa doesn't ask about Roger's girlfriend or team or family. He could care less. He is here now, on the Swiss' invitation and he is so nervous with expectation, he can feel himself trembling with it. 

He has changed from the rather stuffy tuxedo from earlier tonight into a plain white T-shirt and a pair of navy blue shorts. It's not a lot of clothing and Roger seems to appreciate that. Rafa withstands the urge to take a step back when Roger slowly steps up to him. He doesn't move, simply stays where he is and watches Roger's every move as the older man reaches out a hand to grab the hem of his shirt. Rafa follows the motion when Roger pulls the shirt up and then the piece of fabric lands on the ground next to them.

Roger is still standing close, so close Rafa can smell shampoo and aftershave, can feel the warmth of the other man radiating off of him and reflecting on the skin of his chest now exposed without the shirt still on. Roger moves just a tiny bit closer and pushes two finger beneath the waistband of Rafa's shorts on either side of his hips. Roger pushes lightly and the shorts are wide enough to not provide too much of any resistance and easily slip down from where the waistband has been holding them. 

The fact that he isn't wearing any underwear underneath quite obviously takes Roger by surprise and makes Rafa grin in both glee and embarrassment at the same time. Roger takes a very small step back and is looking at him like he sees him for the very first time. Rafa can't help but feel exposed. Instinct tells him to cover his modesty but he tries to get rid of the uneasy feeling by filling the tense silence between them with words instead. Roger however doesn't want to hear any of it. 

“I'm sorry about Shanghai...”

“Don't. It doesn't matter. It's over. All that matters is now and now you are here...”

Roger is still looking at him and Rafa feels a little stupid all of a sudden, standing here with his shorts piling around his ankles while Roger is still dressed. He steps out of the last remnants of clothing, toes of his shoes and steps up to the older man, pulling at his shirt as well and letting it drop to the floor. He never gets a chance to go for Roger's sweatpants though. There is a sudden urgency to the Swiss movements as Roger pushes him back to the bed and Rafa complies, letting himself fall backwards when he feels the soft material of the mattress and bed sheets in the hollow of his knees. Sprawled out on the bed, Roger is still standing there, watching every last inch of him. His voice almost catches in his throat when he speaks and makes Rafa blush again. 

“You're breathtakingly beautiful, you know that? Gloriously so...”

Nobody has ever called him breathtakingly beautiful or glorious before. He has been praised as a good friend, as a good human being, as an exceptional tennis player. He has been praised for his accomplishments, for his talent and his will and determination. But nobody has ever praised him for the way he looks – at least not to his face. It makes him feel a little more at ease with the situation and when the Swiss finally lets go of his on last piece of offending clothing, Rafa feels calm. This is what they want, what they need and it will be glorious, just as Roger has said.

The mattress dips and Rafa can feel the older man next to him. They are close, almost close enough for their skin to touch but Roger is eluding him, staying just out of his reach. Rafa wants to reach for him, wants to touch but Roger catches his wrist when he does so, shaking his head with a soft smile. He leans forward and down, placing the faintest of kisses first on Rafa's temple, where the hairline meets the skin and then on his lips. It's like the brush of a feather. 

“Close your eyes.”

The words are a soft whisper, a plea and Rafa let's all tension fall away and does as he is told. It intensifies the feeling of Roger's calloused fingers on his over sensitive skin a hundredfold. It's all beautiful and arousing up until the moment Roger's hand that has been exploring every inch of Rafa's skin from his neckline down his chest and sides to his hips, is wondering in between his thighs. He tenses, unfamiliar to the sensation and Roger shushes him almost immediately. 

“Don't tense. It'll feel so much better when you relax. Trust me.”

It's hard to let go of the fear, of the expectation of pain. But Roger takes things very, very slowly with him and stays very true to his word of not wanting to hurt him. Now that they have found a rhythm, the Swiss is careful to the point of being almost too gentle with Rafa. It doesn't stay that way for too long but by that point Rafa is too far gone to notice the friction and the soft burning pain of what is happening to him. The rest of their time together is a blur of emotions and sensations that are simply too much to all take in at once. It's a dream and that is what it will always feel like for Rafa – a blissful dream in a sea of reality. 

 

*August 2018*

The transition to the later swing of the hard court season is not as easily done as it might seem to those who are watching him. For some reason people seem to believe that he can achieve almost anything on a tennis court with a racket in his hand, like it is somehow easier for him with everything he has already accomplished. But Rafa knows better. He has to work for it, has to work for everything that seemingly comes to him with ease and he is working on it hard right now. So far things are turning out in his favor. That is all he can say for certain. As with every other time this year around, his game needs a little bit of tinkering and adjustment in order for him to feel fully ready, fully there...

He takes his time before traveling to the American continent - time to be at home, time to enjoy the simple things in life like being with his family and friends, taking the yacht out to see, cooking at his home, being at the academy and simply being happy with his life away from tennis. This is what it all comes down to in the end anyway, someday, one day this will be all he is doing day in and day out... And it's not a bad feeling. Maybe a melancholy one, but definitely not a sad one. 

Toronto is yet another tournament he goes to and Roger isn't there. He has decided not to play before Cincinnati and by now – almost a year after their break-up – Rafa has a hard time to even find it within himself to care. What Roger does or doesn't do is his responsibility and decision. His alone. Rafa doesn't comment or dwell on it and of course he has long since given up on talking to Roger about the possible implications of them avoiding one another. It's how it is and surprisingly enough life still goes on. 

The tournament is a good test but it isn't exactly a triumph on all levels and his tennis certainly could still be better by a notch or two. The result however is exactly what Rafa has hoped for and of course it is nice to win yet another ATP Masters tournament. It has been a while since Rome in May... and it feels good to be bestowed with a trophy in his hands again. Most of the more serious competition seems to have ended up in the other half of the draw but that doesn't mean he isn't tested or that it is some sort of cakewalk. Overall it's a really good tournament and a very satisfactory start to this later swing of this part of the hard court season. 

He should be going to Cincinnati from here, to play yet another tournament prior to the US Open and he and Roger would finally meet again for the first time since Wimbledon. But Rafa's team has been discussing the matter with him at every chance they have gotten and they have done so rather vehemently. They want him to take a break, want him to do the smart thing and give himself time to rest and recuperate and practice to be ready for the start of the US Open. In the end Rafa relents. It's a sensible decision to make and it's not like he has much of anything to lose. 

Pulling out of Cincinnati and taking some more time for himself is the right thing to do and his team applauds him when he finally tells them about the decision made. It means he and Roger will miss yet another chance to be anywhere near one another and it won't be before the US Open that they will be in the same place at the same time. It's something Rafa hardly cares about. Not at the moment anyway, not with the way things are and continue to be. Roger has stopped being a priority in his life and maybe that's for the best... 

It's about longevity, about making the smart decisions in order to keep on playing just a little while longer. It's about rivalry, about a chance to equal the records, about an opportunity to Because that is what they are reduced to these days – two of the oldest players on the tour, having achieved the utmost possible in their sport, having been the perfect spokespeople and ambassadors for tennis and still fighting for glory – against one another.


	9. Aladdin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally I have a chapter with a silver lining for you.   
> I'm sure you'll appreciate it :P.
> 
> One quick word on the last three chapters - I want to try to be done before Christmas, so I'll probably update again twice this week and the final chapter will be out next Monday.
> 
> Hope you like it!
> 
> <>°O°<>

*Olympics 2008*

_A whole new world, a new fantastic point of view  
No one to tell us no or where to go or say we're only dreaming _

Of course teams and coaches are allowed to be here but they are not accommodated in the Olympic village. They have to find their own hotel rooms or different modes of accommodation outside the Olympic village and for Rafa that means that for the first time in his professional career he has his free time all to himself. He doesn't have a house or hotel floor to share wit team and family, he doesn't have his uncle around to tell him not to stay up too late or do other things differently and even though the Olympic village is by no means a luxury accommodation, Rafa has two rooms to himself that he can clutter with his chaos to his heart's delight.

This particular event is like it's made specially for the Spaniard. Rafa embodies the Olympic spirit like nobody else Roger knows. The idea of competition winning over triumph, of participating being more important than winning. Of course Rafa wants to win, they all do. But he is simply happy and overjoyed to be here. It's already more than he has ever dared dream of and anything he can achieve here is simply an added bonus. 

And when he bumps into Roger by chance at the tennis courts he has walked over to to take a first look, Rafa feels even happier to be here. They haven't really had a chance to be together since Wimbledon, schedules simply not permitting much of any contact. They have texted a lot and had a couple of chance for a few stolen hours in Toronto during the Masters tournament. But this now, this is different. There is no team around them, telling them to focus, no family members demanding attention, no fellow players looking at them suspiciously. It's just him and Roger out here in the Olympic village where they are supposed to be. To athletes competing in the same event and them being together is so natural and innocent that nobody gives them so much as a second glance. Around here, they are equals. And it makes things so much easier for both of them. 

Rafa knows he's a little overexcited and maybe even a little carefree when he offers Roger a chance to come visit him at his rooms in the village with the Spanish team. It's an innocent request though, with no innuendo and no ulterior motives to it. Of course the sex they have is glorious and amazing… but it's not what Rafa wants. Not tonight. It's been a long day of traveling and getting acquainted with the grounds and all he wants is a quiet evening to share with a friend. 

“Will you come visit? Tonight? I have cookies. Chocolate chip. You can have some. And maybe we watch a movie?”

It sounds so damn normal and domestic that it puts a soft grin on Roger's face. Two friends lounging about in the same room, watching a movie and eating cookies... That's what they are now – friends... with benefits. It's not just about sex, though that is a major and very enjoyable part of it. But what they share is more than just a physical relationship. Of course communicating is sometimes difficult because of the language barrier but it seems they understand one another without too many words. Like Roger understands right now that Rafa wants a friend tonight... not a fuck buddy. The grin on his face widens just a little bit. 

“I'll bring chocolate.”

They meet about four hours later and it has only just gotten dark outside. To Roger the visit to Rafa's accommodation is a lot more inconspicuous than he has ever expected. Nobody seems to question what he is doing here. He gets a couple of glances and nods and greetings in passing but nobody really cares what he is doing in the quarters of the Spanish Olympic team. He knocks on the door to the room Rafa has told him he stays at and the younger man is quick to let him in. 

Just as expected Rafa's room is a chaotic mess and Roger has no idea how the younger man has managed to get this done within the few hours he has actually been here and has had a chance to move himself into the rooms that are his for the duration of the Olympic games. Roger moves past a pile of discarded clothes and a couple of empty bags before he sets down on the edge of Rafa's bed. The younger man is rummaging through yet another one of his bags and comes up with the cookies he had promised. They are some Spanish brand Roger has never seen before but he has faith and trust in Rafa's taste The younger ma is looking at him questioningly.

“You say you bring chocolate.”

“I did. Fancy Swiss chocolate.”

Roger has brought two bars of Swiss milk chocolate and drops them on the bed next to the cookies Rafa has already placed there. Rafa grins at that and manages to look like a boy on his birthday doing it. It's amazing how easily Roger manages to put an expression of joy on Rafa's face, how easily the younger man is enthralled by something as simple as chocolate. Rafa has a whole bunch of DVDs with him but the movie he wants to watch with Roger is not exactly a new one. He wants to watch “The three musketeers with Roger and the older man is a little dumbfounded at the proposition.

“This movie is 15 years old, easily!”

“No matter. Is a good movie and you can explain the English to me.”

Roger has to grin at that. Rafa makes an educational game out of this or at least that is what he wants Roger to believe. In the end it isn't really about the movie. They settle on the bed with the cookies and the chocolate, put the movie on in English with English subtitles and from time to time Rafa asks Roger a question about one of the subscribed words. Mostly they just sit together side by side, eating their sweets and enjoying the very fact that they have a chance to do something absolutely normal and domestic together. 

Rafa has crumbs of his chocolate cookies on his shirt and Roger's fingers are a little sticky from the chocolate he has eaten. Rafa has gradually been sliding further down into his pillows and the once seated position he had when they had first started is a lot more slumped now and his eyes keep drooping time and again. 

Rafa falls asleep halfway through the movie, which - given the fact that it's all fluffy and adventurous – seems quite an accomplishment in Roger's eyes. He has no idea how the younger man manages to let his eyes fall close right in the middle of a wild chase on horseback, followed by a shootout. Nobody should be able to sleep through that. Rafa does and he even keeps on being oblivious to his surroundings when Roger reaches out a hand and gently brushes the cookie crumbs off Rafa's shirt.

Rafa heaves a sigh when Roger's warm hand brushes across the fabric of his shirt but that is the extent of his reaction. Roger can't help but smile. He moves his hand back, turns on his side and slowly, gently moves closer to Rafa and places a kiss on his temple. The younger man's head lolls to the side a little and the muscles of his face twitch ever so slightly but the younger man doesn't wake up. There's the faintest of smiles on his lips though and Roger can't help but feel mesmerized by the sight in front of him. He should leave, should let Rafa sleep and rest after a long first day here at the Olympic village but he doesn't want to go. He wants to stay here for the rest of the night and simply watch Rafa sleep... and that is exactly what he does. 

*#*

*US-Open 2018*

It's the second Friday in New York, it's the semifinals and everything has gone to hell so quick, Rafa doesn't even get the chance to say goodbye to the dream of an 18th Grand Slam title and a 4th US Open trophy. One moment everything is going exactly according to plan. Then he makes one awkward, wrong move and the chance, the opportunity, the dream slips away from him. His knee hurts, his body denies him a fighting chance and the press is having a field day blaming it all on the way he plays, his aggressive style and the fact that maybe he should have taken better care of himself.

Rafa tries to be graceful in defeat but ends up being just a little bit snippy. He feels he has a right to that though. After all this has been a tough day for him... It is only when he comes back to the safety and silence of his hotel room, that he checks his messages. Most of them are from friends and extended family, as his parents and sister and Meri are all here with him. They had been just as ready and eager as him – to lend their support all the way through to the final. But that isn't happening. Not any more. 

Among all those text he has received, there is one missed call that has gone to voice mail. It comes from a phone number Rafa really didn't expect to see. Roger has called and has left a message for Rafa to listen to. Roger, who has last asked about him in Melbourne, who he hasn't spoken to in months and who hasn't even called him on his birthday – and vice versa. But now Roger has called him. Rafa almost drops the phone, he is that eager to hear what Roger has to say. 

Hearing Roger's voice – other than in an official capacity during an interview or a press conference – after all those months feels strange and familiar at the same time. Roger sounds a bit nervous and that is definitely unfamiliar. Roger has never been nervous around him ever before. But they haven't had much of any contact and today is a tense and tough day for Rafa. It shows in Roger's voice that he has a hard time finding the right words – to express himself and to console his lover. 

„Hey, Rafa. It's... it's Roger. Just checking in to hear how you are. I... saw the match and I'm so sorry you had to retire... I know it's tough and I'm sure you're sad and frustrated right now. But you'll be okay. I know you will. Just... just let me know how you are, okay? No pressure though. I get if you don't want to talk. It's... tough and you probably want some time to digest. Anyway, great tournament and I hope you feel better.“

Roger sounds so hopeful, so positive and so genuinely sorrowful, it tugs at Rafa's heart. They haven't had a heartfelt 'conversation' like this in way too long and there is no denying he has missed talking to Roger like this. He doesn't send a spoken message back, doesn't trust his own voice and doesn't want his emotions to carry through. Instead he sends a short text back. He relies on Roger understanding that his assumptions have indeed been right and Rafa simply needs some time to digest and come to terms with this new injury before they can have a proper talk. 

'I call you tomorrow.'

When he follows through on his promise the next day after breakfast, Rafa is equally as nervous as Roger must have felt leaving that text message for him. Though he really doesn't know why. It's not like they have suddenly forgotten how to behave around one another or how to have a sensible conversation. Or maybe they have... It's been months after all. All that tension - however – drains away the moment Roger picks up the phone. Hearing the other man's voice – especially after the nice and supportive words he left for Rafa last night – puts a smile on the Spaniard's face. 

„Hola, Rogi...“

„Rafa, hi. I... Sorry about last night. It's... it shouldn't have happened like this. You deserved better...“

„We not always get what we want. You have not either.“

„No... No, I didn't. Semis though... That's a great result...“

Talking like this feels so blissfully normal one could almost ignore the fact that they maneuver around the elephant in the room to the best of their abilities. But they both know they can't avoid the topic of the injury forever. Roger is worried about him, has been since last night, Rafa has been able to assume as much from the older man's tone of voice in his message. There isn't much Rafa can say to soothe Roger's worry though. All he can do is to be honest and admit to the facts – as hard to digest as they are. 

„Is a great result. But the health, the knee, that is... bad. Maybe I can appreciate in a couple of days.“

„I totally get that. So... How... how are you today?“

“Better than yesterday.”

“But not good?”

“No. Not good.”

Their short game of question and answers might seem strained and clipped to a stranger listening in on it. But it's not. Rafa actually feels quite comfortable with the familiarity of it all. Talking about their professional lives and especially about injuries keeping them from competing has been a topic they had silently agreed on not to talk about. It only complicates the relationship to bring the rivalry in as well. Apart from that there aren't too many words needed. Rafa needs time to feel better and Roger gets that. There's no need to talk about that particular fact excessively. 

It's so easy, so smooth how they fall back into their previous rhythm, talking to one another, caring for one another, knowing each other so intimately, that words aren't really needed. Rafa silently questions how they could ever allow for all that to slip away, to allow for months on end with no contact. He still isn't sure what has changed, what has brought this on. He has been injured before. But that was almost eight months ago and their fight and decision for a break was still fresh then... And he had decided to shut Roger out. This time is different. This time they have a chance to make it right. It seems Roger is thinking about the same stuff, because he changes the topic and speaks out loud what they are both thinking about anyway.

„Maybe this isn't the right time, but... I'm sorry about Shanghai, I'm sorry about how I reacted because of Laver Cup and Domi and Sascha being idiots about us. I'm sorry about this whole year... We shouldn't have... let go of each other like that.“

“No. We shouldn't have. It was... stupid. And I'm sorry too. I was... very stubborn.”

Rafa doesn't know what else to say and he is relieved when he hears Roger chuckle softly at the other end of the line. He doesn't say anything else about it but Rafa interprets the silence as a display of agreement. Instead of dwelling on the sore topic, Roger is looking forward, looking for a chance for them to finally meet and talk and get back to more normal and favorable terms. It's also a silent plea for Rafa to let the Swiss know how serious the injury is and how long it will take for him to be able to play again. Unfortunately Rafa doesn't have an answer to that question as of yet. 

„Will I see you in Shanghai?“

„I hope.“

„We talk then?“

„We can talk before, Rogi. I have a phone.“

Roger chuckles again and Rafa's heart warms – not only at the reaction but also at the confidence Roger displays in Rafa's ability to be back and healthy by the time the tournament in Shanghai comes around. He himself isn't quite so sure but then again he still feels more than just a little frustrated and sorrowful about the way this last Grand Slam has ended for him. He tries to concentrate on what Roger has asked of him instead. The older man want's a chance to talk to him, wants to hear his voice and share what is going on in his life with him. He wants contact... which is more they have had for months on end now. And Rafa is glad and grateful for the chance. All those months of silence and spitefully ignoring one another and all of a sudden things seem to have fallen into place and everything is easy again... Maybe, just maybe there is a chance for them. 

„I know that. But I meant in person.“

„Yes, we talk in person in Shanghai.“


	10. The Lion King

*Olympics 2008*

_There's a calm surrender to the rush of day  
When the heat of the rolling world can be turned away  
An enchanted moment and it sees me through  
It's enough for this restless warrior just to be with you _

By the time Roger is done with his doubles semifinal and is safely through to a spot playing for a gold medal together with Stan on the next day, Rafa is still battling it out on court with Novak. It takes all three sets for Rafa to battle through and it's another hour and a half before Rafa is back at the Olympic village. They meet at the mess hall and sit together for a light meal and nobody around them cares. While here at the Olympic village they are athletes here for the same reason, competing for their country and looking for triumph and glory. Around here their rivalry - that is so prominent and so often talked about when they play on the ATP tour - means nothing. 

They can share a meal here, they can talk and tease and joke and nobody spares them a second glance. No team members demand their time, no PR managers tell them to be more careful, no family member look at them knowingly or suspiciously. Here they can be themselves and can revel in the fact that they share feelings for one another – a relationship that has been more than four years in the making... So when Rafa gets up and announces that he goes back to his room, Roger can follow. Because around here it's not a problem. It's their own precious little bubble away from the reality they return to when the Olympic games are over. For now however they are safe... and Roger wants to make the most of it. Even if it means he follows Rafa around. 

“I need a shower.”

“You already had a shower. After the match.”

“I need another one. Is very warm today, no?”

Roger nods at that, though he doesn't actually agree. But if sitting in the chaos that is Rafa's room while the younger man goes to shower and change is the way to go for them to be able to spend some more time together, than that is what they are going to do. They leave the mess hall together and Roger follows Rafa to his room. It's all perfectly normal and inconspicuous. While Rafa steps into the bathroom and lets the water run, they talk a little about the day and what to expect now that the tennis matches of this Olympic games are almost over. Most of all Roger compliments Rafa on a job well done. 

“It was a really good match. What little I could catch of it anyway...”

“Si. Was good... Very happy. We both play the final, no?”

“Different finals, but yeah. A chance at a gold medal... Its amazing isn't it.”

Rafa says something in response that Roger doesn't get over the running water but he doesn't get a chance to ask for clarification. Before he can get the words out, the bathroom door opens and Roger is a little surprised when Rafa leaves the bathroom completely naked with water still dripping down his body. He should have known better obviously because judging from the mischievous grin on the the younger man's face Rafa is definitely doing this on purpose Whatever shyness or modesty he might have felt around Roger once upon a time, it is definitely gone now. Roger has to swallow hard at the glorious sight and it takes a conscious effort not to step up to Rafa right there and then and trace every last droplet of water running down his body with either his fingers or his tongue. Instead he asks for the very last thing he wants Rafa to do – he tells him to cover up. 

“You might want to put some clothes on...”

“Why? You no like me like this?”

“I adore you like this.”

Roger can't help the raw emotion of lust shining in his voice and quite frankly he doesn't even try to hide it. Rafa's reaction is a sudden one and Roger's first instinct is to actually fight back when Rafa's hand wraps around his wrist to pull him along. When he realizes that Rafa wants him to follow him to the adjacent bedroom, Roger immediately complies. This is definitely a good idea and naked Rafa can ask almost anything of him anyway. It's not like there is much thinking involved when Roger is treated to this sight. 

They end up on the bed, Rafa pulling Roger out of his shirt while hungrily kissing him. It's steamy and passionate and breathtaking and when Rafa suddenly stops, Roger is taken a little by surprise. The younger man's face is a little flushed, his lips a little swollen and there is a fire in his eyes that shows both passion and affection. Roger still doesn't get why they have stopped though and he's almost a little alarmed when the eager expression on Rafa's face changes into a very somber one. He wants something, that much is clear, and obviously it is something he feels unsure to ask Roger about. 

“Can we... change?”

“You mean switch?”

“Si.”

Rafa nods a little too vehemently, obviously happy that the Swiss has so easily understood what Rafa means. He still looks a little preoccupied with his own request. Roger would like nothing more but to give in and give Rafa what he wants but it's not that easy. It's a big show of trust but that isn't the major problem here. Of course he trusts Rafa. He simply isn't sure if he will like it... and if there will be any joy in it for him if they change the way their physical relation has developed up until now. It's hard to deny Rafa his wish but Roger can't help but be reluctant about it. 

“I... I don't know...”

Seeing the way Rafa's face falls at the denial is almost physically painful for Roger and he knows he's being a little bit selfish here. After all Rafa isn't asking anything impossible of him. But the younger man is inexperienced and Roger himself isn't used to doing it the other way around. He doesn't exactly like the idea but he knows he can trust Rafa and he knows the younger man deserves a chance to proof himself as gentle a lover as Roger has been during that first time after the Wimbledon final a couple of week back. Rafa has trusted him then – unconditionally – and it's time to return the favor. Roger smiles, letting the apprehension he feels drain away. 

“We can try.”

“Only if you want...”

“I want. I could never not want you.”

It's the reassurance Rafa needs and the incentive to keep on going. Roger is a little tense and nervous at first but Rafa quickly takes those feelings away. Roger probably should have known not to worry. If he knows one thing for certain about Rafa, it is that he is eager to learn, to improve and to do things as close to perfection as possible. It holds for his professional approach with tennis and it is no different now when he does his utmost to make sure Roger is pleased in every last way humanly possible for one person to please another one... 

Afterwards they end up curled up against one another on Rafa's bed and Roger can't remember the last time he has felt this utterly satisfied and relaxed. His fingers play with the still slightly damp hair at the nape of Rafa's neck, eliciting a soft grumble from the younger man. It sounds very much pleased. Roger is whispering, already half asleep and he means every last syllable of what he has to say. 

“This... is perfect.”

*#*

*September 2018 - Davis Cup*

Rafa goes to France after the US Open but not for Davis Cup. Davis Cup is out of the question for him. He can walk on the injured knee and the inflamed tendons, but he certainly can't play professional tennis on it. Not for a while yet. As he can't practice and work on his game either, he decides it's best to simply relax and have a good time instead of sitting at home, fretting over the hand fate has dealt him. He has his work cut out for him once he is healthy enough to return to practice. Right now is the chance to seize the moment and enjoy some free time. 

He could have gone to Lille, where the Davis Cup semi final is played, to support and cheer on the team and he's sure nobody would have denied him that opportunity. It would have certainly made for great TV coverage and a spike in viewing numbers. But he is injured and has dropped out of the team and this is not about him. This is about the Spanish team and he is not a part of that – not this time. Being there would mean to take focus away from the team. Rafa doesn't want to do that. 

So instead he watches the first match on TV and unfortunately it doesn't go as planned. The match is lost in straight sets and his fellow Spanish player – Carreno Busta - is injured during the match. It seems in this last Davis Cup semi final, the Spanish team has no luck whatsoever. And without even a little bit of luck, it's hard to be on the winning side. By Saturday afternoon the last ever Davis Cup to be played in this format is over for the Spanish team and they haven't even managed to win a single match against France. They will do so on Sunday but it's not like it really matters – not for a spot in the final.

Rafa can't help but feel a little sad at the result... and angry. Maybe he's being arrogant but he can't help but wonder if the result would have been a different one had he not been injured and unable to help the Spanish team with the matches against France. It probably would have made a difference. But he will never know now. And he won't get another chance – not with the Davis Cup format as it used to be. It's another opportunity squandered and another chance missed. One he never gets back again.

For the first time in months, instead of dwelling on it and silently brooding, he decides to send a text to Roger about it. For the first time in months Roger is his 'go-to-guy'. And funnily enough, when he grabs for his phone to send a text, Roger has already been quicker than him, anticipating that Rafa would feel bad about the way things are going for the Spanish Davis Cup team and his inability to help with the last semi final being played in this format. 

'Not a good day for the Spanish Davis Cup team. Are you okay?'

Instead of a written response, Rafa decides to call Roger. After all the older man has made it abundantly clear he wants to keep in contact with Rafa now that they are finally talking to one another again. And Rafa wants that, craves that – he can't wait to hear Roger's voice again. It's early afternoon in France, which means it's morning in the U.S., where Roger still is in preparation for the Laver Cup. From the background noise when the older man answers the phone, the family is at breakfast. Rafa can hear the kids in the background, laughing and talking. They don't waste time on pleasantries. They both know why Rafa is calling.

“You calling probably means you are not okay?”

“As okay as I can be. I could have helped... but not with the knee like this. It's... frustrating.”

“You'll get better, Rafa.”

“Not in time. Not to help the team.”

Rafa knows he is not making it easy for Roger to be supportive and he knows he probably sounds more than just a little bit bitter. But he can't help the way he feels. Not being able to compete and participate and help the Spanish team to win, it stings. And with Roger he never had to pretend and he is glad and happy they are back to acting normally and openly around one another again. Roger on the other end of the line tries his best to put things into perspective for Rafa. 

“It's not about the team or about the tennis. The main thing is that you're healthy.”

“You sound worried.”

“I'll stop worrying when you are in Shanghai, happy and healthy and without tape beneath your knees.”

Rafa can't help but chuckle at the words. Roger is being anything if not relentless in his pursuit of wanting Rafa at the next ATP masters tournament and finally have a chance to see one another and spend time together, now that they are finally talking to one another again. Rafa wants to be there – for the chance of a competition just as much as a chance to see the older man again. It's a little ironic that it will be in Shanghai when they finally find their way back to one another. After all it's the same tournament where all the misery and the misunderstandings, that has lead to them taking a very lengthy break in their relationship, began exactly a year ago. 

“I'll try. I want to. I want to see you, talk to you. I missed you...”

There is a moment of silence and Rafa can hear Roger walking away from the commotion at the breakfast table as the background noise gets lower. He feels a little nervous but there is no need for it. Roger simply has walked out of earshot from his wife and children and when he responds, fondness is practically radiating from the older man's voice. 

“I missed you too...”


	11. Cinderella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter of this story.  
> The last update will be on tomorrow.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> <>°O°<>

*Melbourne / Indian Wells 2009*

 _Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through  
No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true_

It is the middle of the night and Roger knows he probably shouldn't be here in Rafa's hotel room. He should be with his own team and family, with his pregnant girlfriend, preparing for the voyage home. But he wants a chance to speak with Rafa, to apologize to him or to at least tell him that he never meant to be this openly emotional in the aftermath of his loss in the final just a couple of hours ago. He needs Rafa to know, wants him to understand. 

Rafa is in a dark shirt and a pair of sweatpants that are a little to wide for him, sprawled out on the bed, two pillows pushed behind his back for support and hasn't moved so much as an inch ever since Roger has entered the room and has come to talk to him. The younger man is most definitely exhausted – which is no surprise given what he has pushed himself through these last three days - and he looks half asleep already. Roger hopes Rafa is alert enough to listen to him though. 

“I'm sorry I lost it like that. I...”

“Is okay. I understand. Was a though loss.”

Rafa stops him before Roger has a chance to go into more detail. The Spaniard sounds sincere but Roger can't help but feel that the younger man is only saying it to shut him up. Rafa doesn't want to talk about the trophy ceremony, doesn't want to hear an apology for the way Roger lost his composure and Roger understands that. Him being here, talking about this, is not about making him feel better. It's about making Rafa happy. But he does know all too well that making the younger man happy is something an apology will not achieve. A mischievous smile appears on Roger's face as he moves closer to the bed, looking the younger man up and down, his voice low and a little raspy. 

“Nine hours of high level competitive tennis in three days. You must be exhausted...”

It's more than just a statement, more than an observation and Rafa knows that all too well. Roger can tell it from the expression on the Spaniard's face. It is more - something to make up for the fact that in a moment that should have been all about the Spaniard's joy on winning his very first Australian Open title, it somehow turned into a show of support and sympathy for Roger's loss and his inability to keep his emotions in check because of it. Of course it's not that easy and he has come to explain that to Rafa as well. But if he knows one thing for sure, it's that Rafa usually reacts better to actions than he does to words. So Roger decides to act. They can still talk later...

Roger steps up closer to the bed and he can see the effects his words have been having right away. Even after hours and hours of playing and most definitely being utterly exhausted, Roger still manages to easily arouse the younger man. It's almost too easy... The Swiss kneels down on the edge of the bed, leaning forward and hooking his fingers in the waistband of Rafa's pants, pulling at them They slip free easily enough and Rafa gives a soft moan when the fabric of his shorts brushes across his half erect manhood. Roger hides back a grin at the sound the younger man makes. 

He pushes the pants down all the way to the younger man's ankles and then pulls them off completely, letting them drop to the floor. Rafa spreads his legs just a little wider and Roger lets himself drop in between, leaning forward and planting a soft, gentle kiss on the inside of Rafa's left thigh. It elicits a hiss of pleasure from the younger man. Looking up at him now, it becomes abundantly clear that a soft kiss on the thigh is not the extent of what Roger plans to do. Rafa doesn't tell him to stop but he makes it very clear that he doesn't want Roger to do anything just because he feels obligated to. The Swiss shakes his head at that, a smile on his face.

“You no need to...”

“I know I don't need to. I want to.”

*#*

Something shifts after Melbourne and Roger has no idea what it is. Rafa doesn't talk to him about it and that's the main problem of it all. Rafa has seized talking to him about pretty much everything and Roger can't help but think that it is because Mirka is pregnant and because they will get married, which are the two major changes in Roger's life he has told Rafa about in Australia. Maybe Rafa feels betrayed but Roger can only guess at the real reason because no amount of coaxing has gotten him closer to a satisfactory answer. 

They don't text as much, don't talk as much, don't spend as much time together and it tales the entire two weeks of the tournament at Indian Wells before they finally find a chance to steal away some time that they can spend together. Roger has tried a couple of times, but Rafa has mostly been short lipped and dismissive around him. Winning the final puts Rafa in a better, more accessible mood but the joy of finally having an evening to themselves is short lived. 

Roger knows it the moment he steps into Rafa's hotel room. Something is off from the beginning, starting with the fact that the room is already halfway cleared out and not displaying the usual endearing chaos that accompanies every last one of Rafa's hotel rooms when they are traveling on the tour. It's not the only thing that is off though. They barely say a word to one another, their meeting all but physical and even that is somehow rushed and void of even so much as a loving and gentle words to get things going. It's uncomfortable and of course it affects them both. 

Rafa isn't relaxed, isn't really there with his thoughts and there is no pleasure visible on his face or in his eyes when Roger touches him. They try for a little while longer but arousal doesn't come easy to either of them and in the end Roger decides to stop trying. Rafa doesn't say anything about that either, only grumbles softly and sits up at the edge of the bed, wrapping himself up in the sheets to protect his modesty – a thing he hasn't done once since London last year... 

He looks very much frustrated but Roger can't tell if it is with him or with himself... Of course Rafa doesn't tell him. He doesn't say anything at all... He just sits there and mops and looks so tense, Roger is sure his muscles must be hurting from the strain. It's downright scary. Like spending time with a rag doll... Roger has to work too hard and he doesn't like it. But he tries anyway – for both their sakes. 

“Do... do you want me to stay? We can talk... or we don't have to do anything at all... We could try again...”

Rafa turns to look at him at the mention of trying again, his expression positively murderous. It causes Roger to recoil, not having expected such a violently unpleasant reaction to the proposal. He has no idea what has gotten into Rafa, has no idea what is wrong and by now his temper is slowly but gradually winning the better of him. He makes one last ditch effort to somehow get the younger man to open up. But it doesn't work. Actually it backfires royally. 

“What? What is it?! Talk to me, Rafa... Please...”

“Go away.”

*#*

*September 2018 - Laver Cup*  
   
Every last thing Roger does prior to Laver Cup paints a very vivid and very clear picture. He tweets pictures and little video clips from last year, from their celebration after match point of Roger's last match, showing all the passion and elation shared and felt at the win for Team Europe. Roger texts him a lot too, telling him how Rafa is sorely missed, telling him how great it would have been if he had been there this year.   
   
Above all Roger wishes him a speedy recovery, time and again, so that they finally have a chance to meet in person in Shanghai... and talk to one another on good terms in almost a year for the first time. It’s a little bit much after all this time of radio silence and at the same time it feels like too little. Rafa has somehow managed to convince himself that he was okay not talking to Roger or even seeing the man. As it turns out he has been lying to himself. Because now that they do talk – he misses the other man.  
   
Rafa decides to be the one to take the second step. Roger has been the one to initiate contact, the first one to shove his pride aside and call. Now Rafa plans on maintaining that contact... and on hearing Roger's voice. A cautious part of his mind tells him to tread lightly because last year's Laver Cup – even with all the joy shared and Roger's new found enthusiasm about it – is still a sore topic between them. After all it's the reason they have been separated for so long... Instinct however tells Rafa to joke and tease – because that is the best way to keep the mood light and the only way to speak about last year's edition of the tournament – and what happened afterwards – without fighting.

Roger is in a bit of a hurry – busy with the last preparations before the weekend with the second edition of Laver Cup starts – but he takes the time so that they can talk. Inadvertently the older man asks him about the tweets and what he thinks of them and Rafa follows through on what instinct told him – he teases. Either he doesn't manage the right tone of voice or the topic is indeed too sore yet to talk about. To Rafa, Roger's response sounds very much defensive.   
   
„I thought you didn't want people to get suspicious? And now you post pictures and videos of us celebrating together?“  
   
„Of you jumping into my arms. So much for me being at fault and too obvious about the two of us.“  
   
„Are... are you fighting with me?“  
   
Rafa is very unsure of himself and of the way he has handled the situation but only until he hears Roger chuckle at the other end of the line. It seems the older man has managed to turn the tables on him. But at least he isn't angry. They have spent so much time being angry and resentful with one another and the last thing Rafa wants is to be caught in that situation ever again. Roger however manages to calm him in that regard. 

„No. I'm trying to tease you.“  
   
„Stop it.“  
   
„Why? It's fun.“  
   
„Not for me.“  
   
„That's your problem. Not mine.“  
   
The humor in Roger's voice is clearly audible now and the longer their bickering continues, the more fun he seems to have with it. It's so blissfully normal and the two of them are being such idiotic dorks, it brings a smile to Rafa's face. This is what he has been missing the most – the little, funny, meaningless moments in between. He can't help but scold Roger for his childish behavior but he does so with fondness in his voice and a smile on his lips he wishes Roger could see. 

„You're... you're... impossible, Rogi!“  
   
„And you love me for it.“  
   
„Yes. I do.“  
   
The words are out of Rafa's mouth without him even thinking about it. It's instinct and pure emotion that guides him and he means exactly what he says. He does love Roger for a lot of things and his ability to be goofy and childish and simply happy is only one of them. At the other end of the line, there is a long silence. When Roger reacts, there is a husky quality to his tone of voice. It's thick with emotion and with a certain melancholy that Rafa can relate to. They have both missed a lot of time together... Still for the moment he feigns ignorance and Roger spells it out for him.   
   
“I missed this.”  
   
“What? Teasing me?”  
   
“Yeah, that too… But no. Hearing you say ‘I love you’. I missed that.”  
   
Rafa takes a moment to think about Roger's words and realizes that he hasn’t exactly said the words Roger missed so much for so long out loud as of yet. Of course it was implied and they both know it. There is no need for further clarification. But that's it what this is about. It's about a show of appreciation, about reassuring each other that they are indeed still feeling as strongly for one another as before. Of course not having said it before doesn’t mean Rafa can’t do it now. It’s a request he is more than happy to fulfill.  
   
“I love you.”


	12. Pocahontas / Tarzan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the final chapter everyone.  
> It's the only one that doesn't coincide with real life events as I needed a situation for Rafa and Roger to meet  
> and Shanghai didn't really provide that. So I made something up :-P
> 
> Thanks to Dreamcatcher and OneLastThought for their continued reviews and thanks to everyone else who read and left kudos.
> 
> Merry Christmas everyone!
> 
> <>°O°<>

Paris 2009

_If I never knew you, I'd be safe but half as real  
Never knowing I could feel a love so strong and true _

“I'm so sorry...”

Roger has a hard time finding his own voice when he says the meaningless words and he knows they aren't helping. He can see it in the way Rafa's shoulders tense and in the way he draws in a shaky breath, trying to compose himself. They are at the French Open again, just the two of them in the locker room, mercifully alone and Rafa has just lost his 4th round match against Robin Söderling. The reality of that having happened still has to sink in. For now Rafa is very much lost and very much devastated and it's a reaction Roger can wholeheartedly sympathize with. 

Roger actually debated going to see the younger man. They haven't talked much since their fallout at Indian Wells and they have spent even less time together. Rafa has won three of the four clay court tournaments he has played up until now. The last one however, the one in Madrid, that one was Roger's victory and the two sets one and a half hour match still feels a little anticlimatic. They shared a brief exchange at the net and Rafa has once again managed to be gracious in defeat but that feeling Roger has bee having ever since they returned from Melbourne that something is off about Rafa has reared it's head again in Madrid.

Now that sentiment is even stronger and here in Paris it has caught up to Rafa in the worst possible moment, costing him a match and a chance at another French Open title. It's an outcome nobody believed in – Rafa most definitely included – and still it doesn't exactly come as a surprise. Being closed off and negative and at odds with oneself has to take a toll at some point. Rafa has been all of those things in the last couple of months and today he has paid the price for tit. Something had to give and now that's exactly what happens.

The few words Roger has to offer in comfort here in the privacy of the locker room and who Rafa probably doesn't even want to here are a reverse of a conversation they have had here in this very room four years ago pretty much to the date and this time it is actually Roger's turn to tell Rafa that he is sorry for his loss here at the French Open. It seems a bit surreal to be honest and Rafa has yet to react to his words or his presence in some way. Despite knowing better, Roger steps up to the younger man, hoping against hope that finally this time Rafa will actually confide in him. . 

“Are you okay? Are you hurting?”

“Knees always hurt. Is just a little bit worse today...”

“It's not just that though, right? There's more?”

Actually gaining confidence from the fact that Rafa doesn't avert the question about his physical health, Roger presses on. Maybe it's the vulnerability Raa feels right now or the onslaught of emotion but it seems the younger man actually wishes for a chance to talk to somebody and express how he feels. Otherwise Roger cannot explain why the Spaniard is speaking to him now, where he hasn't before for months on end. It's the right moment to pry and this time Roger is actually rewarded for his insistence. Rafa nods but avoids actually looking at him.

“Si.”

“You don't have to tell me...”

Actually it's not that Roger doesn't want to push. It's that he has heard rumors about what has been bothering Rafa ever since Melbourne, rumors about his parents, about a divorce that has been in the making for a while now... He doesn't need Rafa to say it out loud, not if he doesn't want to. They finally seem to be on better terms again, with a little bit more trust shared between them and Roger doesn't want to throw that away by pushing Rafa too far and making him retreat instead of open up to him yet again. But his worries are unnecessary. It seems saying it out loud, having somebody to confide in, is actually what Rafa wants and needs in that particular moment in time.

“Is my family... My parents. They...”

Rafa stops mid explanation, struggling for the right word in a language that isn't his native tongue. Roger can see the frustration shine through at Rafa's inability to express himself properly. Finally he resorts to hand gestures, making a motion with both hands, holding them together and then moving them into different directions. Hadn't he already heard the rumors before, Roger would understand now... But even knowing, seeing the younger man, seeing the expression on his face and the stiffness of his posture and the moisture in his eyes when he explains, it still manages to break Roger's heart. 

“They separated?”

Rafa nods and doesn't look at him while doing it. Now that the truth has finally been verbalized and Roger has been given an explanation for Rafa's rather odd behavior over the course of the last couple of months, he should probably feel calmer and a little surer about himself. But he doesn't. Quite frankly he feels even worse than before. He wants Rafa to be okay, wants him to be happy but there isn't a damn thing he can do to make that happen... Rafa actually apologizing to him now only manages to make matters words and Roger hurries to soothe the younger man's apprehension.

“I... sorry for California, Rogi. Sorry for sending you away.”

“It's okay. I understand. You had a lot to deal with...”

Rafa doesn't reply to that, doesn't really need to. Now that Roger knows the truth about the family situation that has Rafa feeling so at odds with himself and the rest of the world for months now, he is fully understanding of every last thing Rafa has said or done to him that has felt offending and unfair up until now. When Rafa changes the subject, Roger feels quite glad about it. However the topic Rafa chooses is not exactly an easy one either. 

“You win, Rogi. Mh? For me?”

It sounds like a question, like a plea but even though Rafa sounds desperate and heartbroken, Roger knows better than to allow himself to be fooled by the Spaniard's tone of voice. It is very much a demand, a task for him to accomplish. If he can't be victorious himself, Rafa want Roger to be the one to prevail here. It's not as easily done as that though and as much as Roger wants the trophy and title here, he can hardly make any promises. Tennis doesn't work like that and Rafa knows that. Today however he doesn't seem to care. 

“I'll try.”

“No try. You win.”

“Okay. I'll win.”

It's a hollow promise and they both are very much aware of it. But it's what Rafa needs to hear at this moment and Roger has never been particularly good at denying Rafa the things he wants. He isn't going to start today – not in a situation where the younger man is so utterly vulnerable. Rafa nods at him, appreciation showing on his saddened face with the red rimmed eyes for the briefest of moments before he averts his gaze again, looking back to the ground. He still looks defeated and lost but it's not as heartbreaking to see as before. Maybe it would be best if Roger left now. But he can't. There is one more thing he needs to say. One more thing for Rafa to know.

“Rafa?”

The younger man turns up his face to him again at the mention of his name and Roger feels his mouth run dry. Maybe it's the wrong moment, maybe it's better to wait... But then again he has been waiting for the better part of a year and what better moment than to say something true and meaningful than this, where Rafa can certainly use every last word of support and comfort and appreciation that Roger can give? The Swiss gathers all the courage he can find within himself, keeping an intense gaze on the Spaniard while he speaks the three little words he has been meaning to tell Rafa for quite a long while now.

“I love you.”

Rafa blushes a little at the confession and then the softest of smiles plays on his lips. He nods and reacts with a reply in his native tongue. Roger however doesn't need a translation to understand and the sincerity to the words, the sheer amount of emotions and the smile lighting up Rafa's face even in that awful and bitter moment he is going through right now, it tells Roger everything he needs to know. Even if he was deaf, he would know exactly what Rafa's words are conveying.

“Te amo también.”

*#*

Shanghai 2018  
   
_Somewhere something is calling for you_  
_Two worlds, one family_  
_Trust your heart, let fate decide to guide these lives we see_  
   
It's just like at Wimbledon. Fate is denying them this year. Had they been able to both make it all the way through the tournament and bring about a repeat of that epic final of 2008 at it's ten year anniversary, Roger is sure the enormity of that would have made them more lenient towards one another. They would have reconciled right there and then. But another Wimbledon final for both of them hadn't happened. Instead neither one of them had been in that final.  
   
Now Shanghai has been the tournament for them to finally reconcile and see each other face to face instead of using text messages and phone calls to reinstate a little bit of contact. But it isn't to happen. Rafa is still resting and recuperating and Roger is here – half a world a way and without the Spaniard. He’s still in a bad mood because of that and obviously it shows because barely anyone dares to approach or talk to him.  
   
The memory of Rafa calling to tell him that there is no way he will be playing the Asian swing is still vivid in Roger’s mind. It’s a bittersweet memory. Of course he is devastated at the news and he worries about the Spaniard. But Rafa tells him before there is any official statement. Barely even a month ago, Roger would have found out through some press release that Rafa is still injured. Now they talk again. Even though it’s not good news… Roger especially remembers the tail end of their conversation… Rafa had apologized to him… Of course he had and somehow Roger had tried to see a spark of hope in the situation.  
   
“I’m sorry, Rogi…”  
   
“No, don’t be. You need to do what’s best for you. Forcing anything isn’t going to help you and it certainly isn’t healthy for you.”  
   
“I know. But it’s hard. I wanted to be there. I wanted to see you.”  
   
“Maybe Paris then. It’s not that far off…”  
   
“It’s two months, Rogi.”  
   
“We’ll manage. We always do.”  
   
Roger still firmly believes they will manage – even if it takes another four weeks now before they get a chance to finally see each other and talk in person. They have established a steady line of communication with texting and frequent phone calls over the course of the last four weeks. It's not enough, not by a long shot, but they have spent so much time apart, Roger tries to convince himself that another four weeks of waiting is nothing in comparison to the year it has – almost – taken them to come back together. 

Roger returns from his first practice session at the tournament grounds and he still is in a bit of a funky mood. Nothing is exactly different so far. It's not like he would usually see Rafa during practice. But the knowledge that the other man simply isn't there and won't be for the rest of the tournament still weighs on his mind. He stops by the reception on his way to his hotel room and the receptionist gives him a discreet , professional smile and points to one of the lounge areas in the hotel lobby when she talks to him.  

“You have a visitor.”  
   
Roger frowns at her and is almost sure there is some sort of misunderstanding or problem with a language barrier. He is in China after all. But he decides to give the young, female receptionist the benefit of the doubt and turns to look. He blinks and for a second he is sure he has fallen into one of his wishful daydreams. He mumbles a 'thank you' to the receptionist and his feet carry him over to the lounge area without a conscious thought. That dreamlike feeling doesn't vanish and it only increases when his visitor smiles and greets him in an almost sheepish tone of voice as Roger approaches. 

“Hi.”  
   
“Rafa what… But you said you wouldn't play here?!”  
   
Roger still isn't sure he is awake and not dreaming this whole thing. But this is indeed reality and Rafa is really here and smiling at him. Roger doesn't trust his voice and he trust his legs even less. He drops down in one of the comfortable armchairs opposite of Rafa and simply stares at the younger man, waiting for the Spaniard to explain himself. Rafa is still smiling and nodding in response, explaining his being here. 

“I won't. I can't. But I told you I try to be here. And that I can do. I can be here in Shanghai... with you.”  
   
“So you came all this way only for me?”  
   
“Not officially, no. Officially I have a sponsorship thing I couldn’t get out of.”  
   
“And unofficially?”  
   
“I’m here for you… and me. So we can be together.”

Roger nods, slowly, carefully, still trying to make sense of this whole thing happening here. Rafa is still smiling and Roger still has a hard time believing the younger man is here, as promised and for them to finally have a chance to be with one another. A sudden feeling of urgency grabs a hold of the Swiss and he decides to be practical instead of dumbfounded. Rafa grins in response to the questions and there is an undeniable cheekiness to his tone of voice.  
   
“Do you… have a room?”  
   
“Yes. But I don’t need to use it…”  
   
Roger picks up on the unspoken request and invitation in Rafa's words and they leave the lobby and go up to Roger's room. They don't speak, only share very passionate and very expressive looks and by the time they are through the door and it clicks closed behind them, they are already kissing and taking each other's clothes of more stumbling than walking over to where Roger's bedroom is. It's a frenzy of instinct and emotion and even though they both know they should talk first and share this kind of passion later, they still end up in bed together. 

Afterwards they are both sweaty and naked and utterly exhausted. Above everything else they are satisfied and happy. Roger can't stop watching the younger man, his bronze skin glistening with the sweat coating it and he can't even begin to fathom how they ever managed to be apart for so long. Maybe it's the satisfaction or the fact that he gets to be with Rafa even though he never expected it or because he gets to see the man in all his glory and without anyone else holding any claim to him. But Roger has almost forgotten why they have ever been apart.  
   
“Why on earth did we fight again?”  
   
“Because Domi and Sascha were idiots and you had a… meltdown.”  
   
Rafa says it in the same relaxed, no care in the world, happy and cheeky tone that Roger has used but in his elation about their physical encounter for the first time in almost a year, he manages to say exactly the wrong thing. He isn't aware of it, isn't aware his words hit a nerve, at least not until the Swiss sits up in bed abruptly and pulls the sheet from the foot of the bed to cover himself. He feels exposed all of a sudden and he does not want to have this discussion without any clothes on. And there will be a discussion – definitely – though Rafa doesn't seem aware of it yet. 

“I did not have a meltdown!”  
   
“A little one.”  
   
“Okay. Maybe I did have a little meltdown. But you were the most stubborn, resentful, pigheaded bastard I ever had to deal with. You were determined not to make the first step…”

Roger knows he is being more than just a little aggressive. But it's not uncalled for – he wholeheartedly believes in that. Rafa certainly doesn't share his opinion. Just like the Swiss, Rafa doesn't like the fact that he is entirely undressed and exposed. He sits up, reaches beside the bed and picks his underwear up from the ground, slipping into it, before he half turns to look at Roger again, shrugging his shoulders in response.  
   
“Break-up wasn’t my idea.”  
   
“It was not a break-up. It was a break!”  
   
“No difference.”  
   
“There’s a huge difference!”  
   
“Not to me.”  
   
“Obviously.”

Their discussion has turned into a full fledged fight all of a sudden. Both of them are angry, both of them are holding onto their grudge, both of them are staring at the other, neither one of them willing to break eye contact and blink first. It's almost like a showdown at noon in some cheap Western movie... And then something happens that is entirely different from the last time they have been here in Shanghai fighting about their relationship. This time Rafa is not stubborn and relentlessly holding on to his pride. This time he doesn't tell Roger to leave him alone until he seems it the right moment for them to talk to one another again. This time Rafa smiles and looks at Roger ruefully. And it helps – it helps deescalate the situation and it helps to calm Roger down again. He even manages a smile.  
   
“I do it again, no? Be stubborn?”  
   
“Yes. And it’s infuriating. But then again without that you wouldn’t be you… And I was doing it again too, having a little meltdown. I’m sorry…”  
   
“It’s okay. This time we talk. This time we don’t run and hide from one another. Okay?”  
   
“I’m more than okay with that.”

\- FIN -

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is love. Love is inspiration. Inspiration is fuel.
> 
> If you liked this story - please leave kudos.  
> If you liked this story enough that you want to read more of it - please leave a comment.


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